


Brienne the Beauty

by CaptainTarthister



Series: The Lannisters Are Coming [20]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bang City, Body Image, Established Relationship, F/F, Insecurities, Married Sex, Slight Lactation Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9379130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: Jaime has a sexy idea for Brienne's birthday present but needs  her on board to do it. Brienne, as usual, thinks he's being ridiculous.





	1. The Proposal

“What?” Brienne bellowed, her big hands pushing at Jaime’s shoulders. He was kissing her and much as she would like for him to continue, there was something she had to clarify first.

As playful emerald eyes looked down at her, she sputtered, “Did you—did you just say you want to take nude photos. . .of me?” The last word came out sounding between a gasp and a laugh. 

Jaime took her hands to wrap them round the back of his shoulders so he could settle on top of her again. As he ground his erection against her, making her blush, he drawled, “Why not?”

Then he started kissing her again. Little nibbling, sucking kisses around her face, brushing his lips lightly against her closed eyes before trailing down her cheek. 

She had an answer. Should have an answer. But when Jaime was kissing her like this, as if they had all the time in the world yet also not, her mind went blank. “Your body is beautiful,” he told her between mashing his mouth against hers. “Your skin is beautiful.” This time, tugging her full bottom lip between his teeth and sucking noisily. He pulled away briefly to look at her disbelieving face and nodded. “ _You_ are beautiful.” He resumed kissing her, pressing her deep on the mattress and his tongue warring with hers sensually. Brienne managed to pull away, though very briefly.

“B-But—“ she stammered but grabbed him, kissing him back. She could never resist him. 

“Wife, it would be the perfect birthday present.” He nipped at her chin before running his tongue up and down her long, thick throat as if it were delicate and graceful. He bit and sucked on her collarbones with a groan.

The sound knocked some sense back to her. Frowning, she demanded, “Whose present? Yours? Your birthday won’t be for another year, Lannister.”

Jaime rolled his eyes and started unbuttoning her nightshirt. “Yours, of course.”

The conversation as well as being stripped by her husband was making her freckles stand out red and vivid against her pale but flushed skin. She sat up to shrug off the sleeves, biting her lip at Jaime’s smirk as her upper body was revealed to him. “Fucking yes!” He whispered, making her raise her eyes at him. His smile was admiring yet also predatory as he pushed her back on the bed.

Despite her puzzlement over his intention to take nude photos of her as her birthday present, she laughed as he licked her throat, tickling her. She pulled at his t-shirt—hers, if memory served her right, an old, threadbare one with a graphic of a bear in front now peeling from its many spins in the washer. His head popped free from the neckline, showing her tousled blond hair and locks falling at a rakish angle on his forehead. He was still in old track bottoms while she in thin sleep shorts. But instead of completely stripping each other naked, they resumed kissing. 

Nine years later with four children and advancing careers, Jaime and Brienne still gave importance to time and intimacy with each other. It wasn’t an easy feat despite employing a full-time nanny, the reliable but oft-smiling Taena Merryweather, a housekeeper and a cook. Their jobs were demanding—Jaime’s advertising agency, LSM Creatives, had expanded to offices in Braavos and Pentos and Brienne was on her first term as chair of the Literature Department. Each had heavy administrative duties that sometimes kept them from being home in time for dinner. Once they were home, and even away from it, it was round-the-clock caring for the children. 

Drew and Ty were in the first grade. The twins were inquisitive and active but they were becoming more handful the older they got. Jason and Michael, the younger twins, would be starting nursery next year. Their personalities were similar to their older brothers but still at an age where they were sweet little angels.

Joanna was two years and learning to speak. Her brothers were talkative at this age but Joanna was maybe twice more. She asked questions about everything and had something to say about anything. Jaime complained that he’d much rather chase after his eldest daughter than answer her endless litany of questions. It went from asking about the color of the sky, to why it was blue, who decided it was blue, how it became blue, to why it was called ‘sky’ and where did the come from and so on. At least one year old Alysanne wasn’t really speaking yet though she was still being weaned from Brienne’s breasts. All the Lannister children were breastfed until they were one. 

As a result of her pregnancies and breastfeeding, Brienne’s breasts were now one cup size big, plump, even. They were no longer as firm. Actually, much of her body was no longer what it used to be. Sit-ups and running on the treadmill in their bedroom kept her figure trim and her legs lean and toned. But there was still the stubborn roll in her stomach from when she was pregnant with Joanna. Cellulite striped her ass and the back of her thighs. Her thighs were still firm but also soft now. She was fifteen pounds heavier than before marrying Jaime. Unless she starved herself and never got off the treadmill, they were here to stay.

Brienne had long accepted that she would never have the body to incite desire and lust but she took care of it, keeping it lean and firm. Though she never experienced the degree of insecurity and anxiety about her body following the birth of Jason and Michael, she was more hesitant than ever to undress before her husband. 

It was easy to hate Jaime. He had not gained one ounce at all, got only more distinguished-looking and was a hot, sexy silverfox in the making. _The fucking half-god just got better with age, damn._ The man would be eighty years old and still be the most arrestingly handsome in a room of men old enough to be his sons, even grandsons. Brienne wasn’t worried about his loyalty to her—Jaime didn’t have a wandering eye—but she wondered what he could possibly see in her marked, overweight body that he insisted on still fucking her first thing in the morning and when she wasn’t too tired, at night as well. It also wasn’t rare for Jaime to wake her up suddenly and whisper sinfully in her ear that he wanted to fuck her now, right this very minute. Despite her insecurities, it was difficult to refuse her husband, because, well, she loved fucking him too. 

“Why,” she asked, eyes closing briefly as Jaime nuzzled the valley between her breasts before taking a nipple in his mouth, “do I have a feeling there’s another agenda behind this, husband?”

Her voice came out breathy but Jaime heard every word. In between sucking and licking her nipple, teasing the fat tip to a wet redness, he replied, “You mean what nefarious scheme I’m cooking up in my head, really?”

Their eyes met before he turned his attention to her other breast. “Something,” she sighed, arching her back and running her fingers lightly on his soft hair, “like that.”

 _“Gods,”_ Jaime suddenly groaned, his mouth tightening around her nipple. He suckled hungrily.

“W-What?” She raised her head a little, noting the change in his tone.

She felt his reluctance as he pulled away from her breast. Swiping a finger on a nipple, he then held it up to show an ivory droplet. “Oh,” she muttered, her face burning. Weaning their youngest was a gradual process. Brienne started a month ago, lessening their daughter’s dependence on her breasts until it was limited to just a few times a week. Though her breasts were small—she had been flat-chested before getting pregnant—they produced a lot of milk. More than enough to rival a couple of milk farms, Jaime liked to joke. Milk would still leak from her breasts at random times, but especially when aroused. 

“Tell me how that is not sexy,” Jaime challenged her, lowering his head toward her breasts again. “Or beautiful.”

“I’m just grateful it doesn’t happen when I’m meeting with the dean,” Brienne said, losing herself to his hungry suckling and kisses.

“You taste so sweet,” he marveled. 

“Liar,” she teased. “You can’t taste the burrito I had earlier?”

“Now that you mention it.” Jaime sucked a little harder then pulled away, pretending to look thoughtful. She had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh. “I could taste a hint of. . .hmm. . . “ he licked his lips. “Spicy bean burrito, wife?” 

Unable to stop from laughing, Brienne surrendered to it, letting out breathless howls and hoots, shaking her head in both mortification and amusement. Jaime laughed along with her, collapsing next to her, his body also shaking with laughter. As their laughter subsided, Brienne turned to curl up against him, her sapphire eyes bright. Jaime hauled her closer to his chest as he caressed her heavily-freckled cheek.

“I love you, Jaime,” she said simply.

“Damn it,” he complained. “That’s my line.” But he grinned at her then kissed the tip of her nose, twice broken and crooked at the tip. “I love you, Brienne.”

“Hmm.” Brienne sighed happily and threw her arm across his stomach. 

“Does that mean you’ll let me take the photos?”

“Don’t be bloody ridiculous.”

“You should’ve seen yourself earlier, when you were laughing. I wish I captured it frame by frame.”

“Flatterer.”

“Only the truth with you, wife.” Jaime said seriously. “Always.”

Brienne looked at him. Jaime was always straight with her. He never sugarcoated, never lied, never did anything for her to question her trust in him. Yet this. . .project he wanted to do. It was just so. . .way out of her comfort zone. She could hardly relax when they did the yearly studio portrait with the kids, and that with clothes already. How could he expect her to just be okay to pose without a single stitch of clothing on? 

“I wish you can see yourself the way I see you,” he added.

Brienne kissed his hand, which was still on her cheek. Then she got up, throwing one leg over his hips so she was straddling him. Jaime smiled at her hopefully.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised. It was the most outrageous idea her husband ever had and though she had misgivings, she realized she wasn’t completely against it. 

“That’s good enough,” Jaime said. “For now.”

“Oh?” She said, cocking a thick, pale eyebrow. Pretending to misunderstand, she inquired, “Does that mean you don’t want to fuck, then?”

“Don’t be bloody ridiculous,” he retorted, mimicking her from earlier. “Shame on you for trying deprive me of a wild ride between your legs, wife.”

Winking, he grabbed her by the hips and rolled her back on the bed. Her laugh was cut off abruptly, followed by a slow, wet sound bordering on indulgent then a moan. Lots and lots of moans.


	2. Your Choice Is Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much happens here. I wrote this because I wanted to see them interact with their children and things only get moving towards the end. Please indulge me this, and thank you for reading. :-)

“But Daddy, I want scrambled eggs,” Drew protested as Jaime, who was going around the table with the frying pan and plopping eggs on the children’s plates, was about to ladle a sunny-side-up on his plate.

“Sorry, Drew, but this is what you have.” Jaime said firmly, putting it on his plate. “It’s still an egg.”

“But it’s not scrambled.”

Jaime put the frying pan back on the stove and sat down at the head of the table. Looking at his son right in the eye, he spoke in a voice that meant business.

“You can choose to eat the eggs as I prepared it or not, young man. It’s your choice to be hungry and too weak to play later.”  
Drew let out a heartbroken sigh and dug in. Ty, sitting across from his brother, beamed at Jaime adorably.

“I like eggs, Daddy.”

Jaime grinned and sipped his coffee. “Thank you. Now eat.”

Sitting at the head of the table, Jaime watched in satisfaction as his sons, Drew, Ty, Jason and Michael ate their breakfast. Their blond heads switched from pale to golden under the wide beams of sunlight entering the room. He smiled when Jason asked for more maple syrup and Drew reached for the bottle to squeeze some on his pancakes. 

“Look who’s finally up!” Brienne announced from the doorway. She was carrying Alysanne with one arm, who was still in her pajamas but already alert and grinning. She held Joanna’s hand. She was also still in pajamas.

Dressed in a sleeveless navy blue blouse and slim, black pants, Brienne looked relaxed yet also formidable. Her hair, brushed back when she left their bedroom to check on the girls, was now tousled around her face, evidence that one of the children had messed it up. But Brienne was grinning and making playful noises with Alysanne while she steered Joanna toward her seat.   
Joanna was the closest to Jaime in looks, except for her blue eyes. She was a beautiful child and though just beginning to form sentences, she had heartbreaker written all over her. Jaime dreaded the day boys would be phoning her, or worse, asking her out. She was mischievous and smart, and that put her way ahead of most children her age.

Alysanne was the only child who resembled Brienne, though her eyes were green and her hair was golden blond, like Jaime’s. After Joanna was born, Jaime and Brienne had decided that they had enough kids. Though that decision was made early on, neither got around to ensuring it was executed. Not to mention that they were extra-frisky after Joanna’s birth. A mere nine weeks after Brienne gave birth, they were fucking again. Discovering she was pregnant so soon put them flat on their asses for a bit but they always knew how pick themselves up off the ground and move on. Having to tell people they were expecting again when their youngest had yet to learn how to walk was a little embarrassing, though. Even Tyrion had given Jaime a look, pulled him aside and hissed, “Seven above, brother, are you on death row or something to get your wife pregnant this soon?”

The last pregnancy was definitely a challenge but giving birth to Alysanne was the easiest, thank the gods. Brienne had just been wheeled in to her room when it was discovered she was crowning. 

As Joanna joined her brothers, Brienne put Alysanne on her high chair. The little girl looked past her mother’s shoulder, pointed at Jaime and squealed, “Daddy!”

Jaime got up from his seat and went to her. He nuzzled her curls and murmured, “Hey, sweetheart.” He knew he shouldn’t have favorites but Alysanne was always excited at the sight of him. He kissed her on the cheek and she beamed at him, blinking her eyes sweetly before pounding her little fists on the table. Brienne rolled her eyes at her impatience as she put a bowl of sliced fruit and a small plate containing one pancake on it. 

“I got this, husband,” she said as Jaime straightened up. He kissed her lingeringly on the lips, stepping back to enjoy her red cheeks before he nodded and went back to his seat. Brienne sat at the other head of the table.

Despite having staff to take charge of the morning meal, Jaime and Brienne have reached the agreement that the first meal of the day was family time, from the cooking until the end. They took turns cooking and rousing the younger children awake.   
Since Drew and Ty were already going to school, they could eat by themselves. Jason and Michael managed fine on their own although their parents still kept an eye on them—they weren’t allowed to use knives yet so their food was still pre-cut. Joanna and Alysanne still needed assistance. Like her younger brothers, Joanna sat on a chair but with a booster so she’d have no trouble reaching the table and eating. But while Jason and Michael loved to be lavished attention on, she was insistent on learning to eat on her own as soon as possible, and would frown when adults cut her food for her. 

Today’s breakfast was banana pancakes, crispy bacon and eggs. Perhaps it was considered too fatty but Jaime and Brienne, while advocates for proper nutrition and health, weren’t too hardcore. With the children now more active, they needed food that stuck to the ribs. But the rest of their meals consisted of lots of vegetables and lean proteins. As much as possible, their snacks were healthy but they allowed things like chocolate candy every now and then. Jason particularly shared Jaime’s sweet tooth and would make faces when having to eat fruit. He didn’t dare to this with his mother, though. Even Alysanne, though having just turned one, knew that their mother was not to be crossed. 

 

The kitchen during breakfast was at its liveliest. Drew was becoming a picky eater and Jaime and Brienne were trying to put an end to it not by forcing him to eat what he didn’t like but making it clear to him that he had a choice, and with this came a consequence. He liked to run and play and when reminded that not eating his vegetables would make him tire more quickly, he relented. Ty, on the other hand, ate whatever was on the table and would always thank his parents or Taena or the cook for preparing the food.

In between helping the younger children eat, Jaime and Brienne snuck bites off the food from their plates. They chewed quickly because the children were talking and would ask them questions. 

“Mommy, the teacher told us to bring our favorite book for show and tell today,” Ty told her. “But she said to only bring one.”  
Brienne spooned some egg into Alysanne’s mouth then observed, noting his frown, “That sounds great. So what’s the problem?”  
“Ty wants to bring more than one.” Drew answered.

“Well, that’s the thing with a favorite,” Jaime said as Michael attempted to transfer some of his bacon on Jason’s plate. Keeping his eyes on his son, he continued, “It should only be one. Michael, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“I want only pancakes!” Michael protested.

“Michael,” Brienne admonished him. Her blue eyes flashed.

He sighed and put the bacon back on his plate. Brienne nodded.

“So what are you bringing?” Brienne asked him. To Drew, she said, “Are you having trouble too?”

“No, it was easy! I’m bringing The Clumsy Ice Spider. I asked the teacher if I can do voices, like you do, Mommy, when you read it to us. She said okay.”

Jaime smiled as Brienne’s blushed. “Mommy is great with voices. So are you going to bring all the books, Ty? We might have to hire a truck.”

“I wish.” He sounded so annoyed it was cute. Brienne and Jaime grinned at each other. 

“You like The Clumsy Ice Spider too but I picked it already,” Drew said. “But we can trade.”

“But it’s your favorite.” Ty said.

“Yeah, but you don’t have a book yet.”

“I know.”

“How about The Lonely Ice Dragon?” Jaime asked. “You like that.”

“Or The Adventures of the One-Handed Knight?” Brienne asked. “You said you enjoyed that.”

Ty bit his lip. “I like him. Okay. I’ll bring the book.”

They finished breakfast fifteen minutes later. Brienne had the older children bring their plates to the sink while Jaime got Drew and Ty ready, helping them with their backpacks. Today they were carpooling with Bronn and Lollys’ daughter Lyra. Jaime brought them outside. Bronn, dressed in one of his many black suits, stood in his driveway next to the car, holding the door open for his daughter Lyra. 

“You won’t appreciate this until later, lass,” Bronn told his daughter as he shrugged off her backpack, which he was carrying on his shoulder. “But never date a boy who’ll never hold the door open for you or anything.”

Lyra rolled her pale blue eyes. “Fine, Dad. Good morning, Uncle Jaime!”

“You’re getting bigger every day, lads,” Bronn greeted them. He nodded at Jaime. “Rich boy.”

“Shut up,” Jaime said, dropping on one knee before his sons. “Alright, Uncle Bronn will drive you now. Behave. Or no dessert tonight.”

“What’s tonight’s dessert?” Drew wanted to know.

He smirked. “Your favorite.”

“Bye, Dad,” Ty hugged him then climbed inside the car. 

Drew put a hand on his heart. “I promise to behave, Dad.”

“I know you will.” Jaime patted him on the head and straightened up. “Remember I love you.”

Drew flushed. “Dad, come on.”

Jaime waved goodbye to them then headed back to the house. Brienne was hugging their daughters. “I love you,” she said, kissing them on the cheeks. “How I love you, I love you.”

“Daddy!” Alysanne squealed again. She tore out of Brienne’s arms to hug Jaime’s legs. He laughed and pulled her up in his arms.  
“You take care of each other.” Brienne told Jason and Michael, kissing each on the forehead. “I love you.”

They waved goodbye to their children and went outside. Jaime took Brienne’s hand and she smiled at him. He couldn’t resist pressing a quick kiss on her full lips, just to get her blushing again. 

“I learned something from Bronn today,” he said as he unlocked the passenger side of the car.

“Not another curse word, husband?” Brienne teased him as he opened the door.

“Nope. He was telling his daughter not to waste her time on some guy who’ll never hold the door open for her.” Jaime grinned at her. “For a rude fucker, he does know how to be a gentleman, sometimes. So, my lady,” he gallantly gestured towards the car. “If you please.”

Brienne laughed and entered the car. He joined her, sliding on the driver’s seat. As they put their seatbelts on, she retorted, “I’m your lady, you say? Then how come you want to take nude photos of me?”

“Why not?” He answered, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway and towards the street. When he glanced at Brienne, she was looking at him expectantly.

“I wish you’ll see yourself the way I see you.” He said seriously, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove. 

“Uh-huh. Jaime, we both know that you’ll seize on any opportunity to get me naked. And keep me naked.” Despite being smug, she was flushed even down to her neck. 

“Again, why not? You have an amazing body. You do!” He insisted when she started protesting. “Your legs are phenomenal. You’re strong. Your freckles—gods, I do wonder if I’ve kissed every spot. Your tits—“

“Jaime, come on.”

“I love looking at you, Brienne. And I just think, you’re turning forty. Don’t you think it’s about time you believe your husband when he says you’re beautiful?” 

“I don’t know. I really don’t And they’re nude photos!”

“They don’t have to be nude photos if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Really?”

“I see you in other ways, wife. But they’re all beautiful.”

Brienne snorted and shook her head. “You exaggerate. And besides, how do you intend for us to do this shoot? You seem to have forgotten that there are people in the house.”

“So we go on a trip. Three days.”

“I don’t want to be away on my birthday. I want to be with the children.”

“We go on a trip for three days and then we arrive the morning of your birthday. Or the night before. But I insist on the three days, wife.”

“Why three days?”

He winked at her. Laughter exploded from him as she blushed furiously.

“All your talk of my not having to be nude if it makes me uncomfortable when you actually mean otherwise! Oh gods, I can’t believe you, Jaime Lannister!”

“No! Wife, I meant what I said. But do you really think that I’ll be happy to just fuck you for one whole day? I need three. Minimum.”

Brienne shook her head in disbelief. “You get more randy by the year, don’t you?”

“Oh, and like you’re not thinking the same thing? I will bet that at least half the time your gorgeous body will be keeping me in bed.” He smirked. “Not that I’ll resist when you do.”

“W-Well . . “ Brienne looked like she was about to combust. “I have missed. . .we haven’t really. . .I mean, we still do but. . .not like before. When we’d go. . .beginning Friday night.”

Jaime smiled, remembering Oh, yeah. Those were the days. When the entire weekend was spent wrapped around and inside each other, dreading Monday. Doing nothing else but fucking and fucking some more. Worshipping Brienne from head to toe. He stopped at a red light and glanced at his wife. She was looking at him thoughtfully.

“I miss those days.” She whispered.

“Me too.” He admitted.

“But I don’t know, Jaime. Three days without the children? I know we have staff that’s more than capable but I’m not comfortable leaving them that long without one of us.”

“You know Tywin’s more than willing to upend his life just to be with our little monsters. And your father.” Jaime reminded her. “But I’ll understand if you don’t want to, wife. It’s your birthday. We’ll do what you want.”

“But I want the three days of just you, Jaime. I haven’t had you to just myself in forever.”

When she spoke like that, so earnestly and honestly, Jaime fell in love with her all over again. Her sapphire eyes implored at him.  
“I’ll go with whatever you want. I’ll make the arrangements.” He caressed her cheek. “Just tell me what you want. Your choice is mine, wife. I promise.”


	3. Uncle Renly's Advice

One week before Brienne’s birthday

 

Brienne glanced at her watch then went to the study she shared with Jaime. She rapped lightly on the door and pushed it open. Jaime looked up from where he was typing on his laptop.

“Renly’s here?” He asked, his fingers flying over the keyboard quickly.

“Not yet, but he will be shortly.” Renly Baratheon was in town for a wine and spirits convention, of which Baratheon Vineyards was one of the major sponsors. A visit from her best friend was rare and it was only business that would have Renly flying to King’s Landing. He got married last year to his long-time boyfriend, Loras Tyrell, so the men were still pretty much in the honeymoon stage. It was a situation they hoped to change soon. Another reason for Renly’s visit was to file the final paperwork for the adoption proceedings. The couple wanted to expand their family and had always wanted to adopt. So when Jaime and Brienne were asked to write them a recommendation letter, they were more than happy to oblige. This was why Renly was coming over, a visit that had extended to a dinner invitation. 

Though Jaime was still typing, he shot his wife a hot, appreciative look. Brienne’s ears pinked, still shy after all these years. “You sure you’re not going to be the main course, wife? You look good enough to eat.” 

“Shut up.” She said, heading to her desk. Hers was next to his. While Jaime’s was filled with magazine with yellow sticky notes marking the ads from LSM Creatives, her desk was filled with books as well as papers to check. She touched them absently before turning to him. Jaime closed his laptop, turned his swivel chair to face her and, grinning devilishly, bade her to come to him with a crook of his finger.

Brienne couldn’t help laughing, nor could she stop herself from approaching him. It was a warm summer evening. If it was just dinner with family, she would be in a tank top and shorts, or one of Jaime’s old t-shirts. Tonight she was wearing a sleeveless white blouse and cropped, cerulean pants. Jaime too had upped his dinner style a bit with white button-down shirt and khaki pants. 

She sat on the edge of the desk, blushing as she had to spread her legs for Jaime to settle between them, his face angled up toward her, his eyes sparkling. 

“You know, it’s going to be a long time before you join me in bed later, wife,” he said conversationally while unbuttoning her blouse. “I need something to tide me over during that long wait.”

Brienne’s breath hitched as his lips pressed small kisses on her breasts. Dancing fairies whizzed around her stomach as she clung to his shoulders, her fists crumpling his shirt.

“It’s not going to be that long.” She whispered, letting out a moan as he sucked a nipple. 

“Maybe, maybe not. But let’s be sure, nonetheless. We don’t want Renly to feel shortchanged when you suddenly kick him out.” Jaime grinned and she caressed the deep dimples framing his lips. 

“I believe, husband, that it’s you who has trouble controlling himself.”

“That may be the case. But I think, why prolong such unnecessary mutual misery when it can be remedied in. . .” He picked up her wrist and looked at the time. “Seven minutes?”

Her body shook with quiet laughter as she kissed him. “Seven minutes?”

He winked at her. She hugged him close. “Alright, Lannister. If you say so.”

 

Jaime tucked stubborn, wispy locks of Brienne’s hair behind her ears as she zipped up his pants. Their eyes met, his playful but still smoldering, hers narrowed but dark with arousal. What was supposed to be a seven-minute romp on the desk ended up close to twenty minutes. The first time was on the desk, and the next on Jaime’s chair. Brienne was gasping Jaime’s name as his tongue fucked her cunt when they heard the doorbell ring. 

The children met Renly at the door. He was Drew and Ty’s godfather and they were the first to hug him. Brienne stood back, pleasure on her face at the sight of her best friend. 

With thick, black hair, dark, navy blue eyes and angular features, Renly had a hard appearance but was easily the most handsome man in the room—he gave Jaime a serious run for his money. He was slim and six feet tall, with a quick, friendly smile. Her eyes softened as Jaime walked past their children to give him a quick hug before she followed. Then she was embracing her best friend tightly, having missed him so much.

“Hello, Brie,” Renly kissed her on the cheek and hugged her back as tightly. 

“Glad you’re here. The children have been talking of nothing else.” She pulled away and looped her arm through his. 

“I love the warm welcome.” Renly smiled down at Drew. The boy smiled back as he ruffled his hair. “But I don’t see the girls?”

“Ah. There they are,” Jaime said as Taena, having at last pried Joanna and Alysanne from their toys, appeared with them. Jaime opened his arms and Alysanne practically jumped off the nanny’s arms to hug him, ignoring Renly. Brienne went to Joanna and took her by the hand.

“Meet your Uncle Renly, sweetheart,” Brienne told her.

“My gods, Brie, look at her eyes.” Renly marveled. He looked at the children then shot Jaime a naughty smile. “Six kids, two with green eyes,” he mused, noting Alysanne’s curious gaze at him from her father’s arms. “The rest with blue. You guys have been busy.”

“We can’t deny our productivity, that’s for sure. Say, how hungry are you? Because dinner’s ready or if you’d like a tour of the house first?” Jaime asked him.

“Can we come?” Michael asked.

“Of course, man. Daddy might forget some details. How about it, Renly?”

“I’d love to.” 

When Jaime and Brienne had first moved in, the house only had four bedrooms and three and a half baths. It was enough at the time because they never expected to have six kids. But after Jason and Michael were born, they started talking about renovating it. They needed more bedrooms and bathrooms, and it was fortunate that the property was huge so space was not a problem.   
The house had to be gut renovated, however, and it took close to two years. They had just moved back in when Brienne discovered she was pregnant for the third time. Because the house was renovated from top to bottom, Jaime and Brienne took the opportunity to make other changes too and make it more of their own. They loved natural light so there were lots of open spaces to let it in. They put hardwood floors for a more cozy feel, increased the height of the ceiling in the living room. There were lots of seating areas and worn furniture around the house, soft, cozy rugs and carpets, a carryover from Evenfall Hall. The only Lannister touch that Jaime allowed was the brass (to Tywin’s horror) lion’s head knocker at the front door. He didn’t like furniture or pieces that were more for investment instead of being used and abused. That was a Casterly Rock aesthetic that he was happy to leave behind. 

Dinner was in the dining room. The meal was simple and no-frills, spaghetti with garlic bread, fried chicken, salad, and ice cream for dessert. Brienne happily sipped her wine as the children peppered Renly with questions. Jason asked solemnly if “Uncle Renly can make orange juice” because “Mommy said you make something like grape juice.” Ty asked if he really lived with his best friend. Alysanne couldn’t stop looking at him, her green eyes as wide as saucers and nearly taking over half of her freckled face.

“Mommy said you went to school together.” Drew told Renly.

“Oh, yes. We had lots of classes together. I liked sitting next to your mommy.”

“Why?”

“Well, not exactly liked. But she would pinch me whenever I nodded off.”

Drew and Ty laughed. Michael asked him next.

“Did you and Mommy have lots of homework?”

“Lots. Mountains.” Renly answered exaggeratedly. “Huge. Do you have lots of homework?”

Michael nodded solemnly. “I hate it.”

“Oh, honey. Me too. But even when I did,” he added, “I made sure it was done and done well.”

“Why was Daddy not with you?” Ty asked.

“That’s because Daddy was already finished with school,” Jaime explained. 

“Pretty eyes,” Joanna suddenly blurted out.

All the adults looked at her. Brienne, who was sitting next to her, tucked her hair behind her ears. “Who has pretty eyes, my love?”

Joanna pointed at Renly. Renly smiled. “Thank you.”

“But let’s not point, okay?” Brienne said putting Joanna’s hand down.

Jaime chuckled. “I think my daughter has a crush on you, Renly.”

“What’s a crush, Daddy?” Ty asked.

Renly and Brienne laughed while Jaime visibly scrambled for an answer in terms that his young son would understand.  
“It’s like when you admire someone. You like the person and think he or she is amazing.” Jaime said. “Like with your Mom.”

“You kiss a lot.” Ty remarked, tilting his head to the side.

As Brienne sputtered her wine and Renly grinned, Jaime cleared his throat. His skin was flushed. 

“Well, it’s a different sort of admiring I have. It’s between married people, like your Mommy and me.”

“Oh. Okay.” Then to Renly, Ty suddenly asked, “Did you kiss Mommy?”

This time, Jaime laughed. As Brienne choked on her wine a second time, Renly said, “Oh, no, Ty. When you admire somebody, you don’t have to kiss them. Like your Daddy said, his and your Mom’s is different because they’re married.”

 

“Sorry about the inquisition,” Brienne said an hour later. She and Renly were sitting out on the porch. Jaime was inside the house, putting the children to bed. She invited him to join them but he kissed her on the cheek and said that he wasn’t going to get in the way of two best friends catching up. 

“Oh, please. I loved it.” Renly assured her. “They’re smart kids, Brienne. And nice. Gods, I hope Loras and I can do half as good a job as you and Jaime have done.”

“Can I say I can’t believe this is happening? I mean, gods! You’re adopting. That’s a huge step.” Brienne marveled. “I can’t believe it wasn’t too long ago when you were dreading telling everyone about you and Loras.”

Renly nodded slowly. “Yeah. I remember.”

Renly and Loras had a difficult start. There was attraction from the beginning but Loras had always believed himself to be straight. Though his relationships with women were few, he frequently dated. Renly, realizing that Loras was at the cusp of realizing something monumental about himself, held back on his feelings. It was a long time before Loras admitted to himself that he was gay, and longer still to pursue a relationship with Renly. Renly had not been sure about getting into a relationship with him as well. He didn’t think it wise for someone to realize he was gay and then plunge into a relationship right away. However, Loras was sure of his feelings and eventually convinced Renly that being with him won’t take anything away.  
Then there was also how Loras was the nanny of Robert and Cersei’s children. Jaime knew his sister was conservative but she liked Renly. How she would react upon finding out that her employee was gay and in a relationship with her brother-in-law no one could tell. Loras worried about losing his job. When he admitted to Cersei and Robert about himself, and Renly, the couple took some time to digest the news. They would tell him eventually that he was still welcome in their home for as long as he wished to work with them. 

The long distance relationship was difficult to maintain. When they got engaged, Loras made the decision to resign from his job and move to Dragonstone to be with Renly. They got married in a beautiful ceremony in Dragonstone. 

“Do you know what baby you’re getting?” Brienne asked.

“We hope it’s a girl. But you know, as long as we get a baby we’ll love it forever.” Renly said. “How do you and Jaime do it? Six kids. I can’t fucking believe it.”

Brienne shrugged. “I don’t know, Renly. But so far we’re managing. It’s not easy but we’re still keeping our heads above the water.”

“Any plans for your birthday? It’s next week.”

Brienne glanced back to the house then gestured at him to lean closer to her.

“Jaime and I are going away for three days. And he wants to take,” she took a deep breath, “photos of me.”

“Why are we whispering?”

Cheeks flaring red, she whispered even more softly. Renly frowned. “What? I can’t hear you.”

“Nude photos!” Brienne hissed. She covered her mouth. She was the color of flames. 

Renly laughed. “Oh, really?”

“He thinks that since I’ll be turning forty, I should start believing him about, you know, when he compliments me about my body. It’s ridiculous, right? I mean, I’m a mother. I’m also carrying an extra fifteen pounds. Why would he want to do this?”

“So what if you’re a mother? And so what if you have the extra poundage? I think it’s sweet of him, actually. But I’m not surprised.” Renly lounged in his chair with a sigh. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? It’s either he’s undressing you with his eyes or he can see through your clothes. You’ve got the man smitten with every inch of your gorgeousness, Brie. And you are gorgeous.” He nodded at her breasts. “You have nice breasts.”

Brienne gasped and quickly covered her chest. “Shut up! Not you too!”

“Honey, I’m gay. Boobs mean nothing to me but I can look at them objectively. I would bet Jaime can’t get enough of them.”  
Brienne blushed. Jaime was giving her breasts a lot of extra love lately. She wasn’t lactating anymore but the fullness and heaviness were still there. 

“Why are you hesitating? It’s a great idea. And I told you, sweet.”

“Renly, he’s taking me away for three days to do the shoot. He said I didn’t have to do it but you know Jaime.”

“That man will not do anything you’re not at least partially in agreement with. My advice is to go ahead. Do it. It might be more fun than you think. You also want photographic evidence that your ass used to be high. Don’t wait until you’re seventy.”

“So you think it’s a good idea?”

“I don’t see why not. And if Jaime is doing it so you’ll learn to see yourself better, all the more why you should do it. I’m a little envious myself. I wish Loras would do the same but we’re still new in this married thing.” Renly patted her on the knee. “I agree with Jaime. It’s high time you realize just how gorgeous you are, Brienne.” 

“Inner beauty is more important.”

“Clearly you have more than enough to spare the outside, sweet girl.”


	4. Blackmail

School wouldn’t be out for another three weeks. Work at King’s Landing University-Westeros ranged from too many activities crammed in one day to long, very slow days. The heat made people either very lazy or super productive. Brienne scheduled all her important meetings and activities early so she could take a longish weekend with Jaime. They left Thursday morning and would be back Saturday night, just in time for Sunday, when Brienne’s birthday would be.

As arranged, Selwyn Tarth and Tywin Lannister would be staying with the children, along with the staff. The grandfathers were a good distraction. As soon as both men walked past the door, the children exploded in delighted shouts, elbowing at each other to be the first to hug their grandfathers. 

Breakfast, as a result, was louder and noisier than usual. Through the chaos of loud conversation, food spilled on the table, whines and laughter, Brienne caught Jaime’s eye and smiled at each other. A house busy with life and full of laughter was made it home for them. They loved coming home to their affectionate children and sometimes didn’t mind when, in the middle of sex, the children would burst into their room demanding waffles and kisses. The family they had with each other was so different from the ones they grew up in. So even when it was a bitch struggling to sleep with his cock hard and aching, Jaime didn’t kick the children out of bed. Brienne was the same, resorting to longing, lustful, blushing stares at her husband over the children’s golden heads while embracing them. 

But she was looking forward to three, glorious days of uninterrupted sex with Jaime—or just being with Jaime. Fucking was still very much a part of their lives. Most mornings she woke up with Jaime already busy between her legs, or she woke him up with her tongue and lips tasting his cock. But she missed long, languorous fucking. The kind where they hardly left the bed and skipped showers, too wrapped up in being with each other.

They took her sedan, with Brienne driving because Jaime hated driving with a stick. They would only be three hours out of King’s Landing because they didn’t want to spend a lot of time driving. They were off to the lakefront cabin Jaime bought a year ago as a wedding anniversary present to her.

The Lannisters were very comfortable but practical spenders. Aside from their house, the only other piece of real estate they owned was this cabin. They didn’t splurge on art for investment purposes but rather had shares in low-risk stocks with slow but more certain returns, savings. Every now and then were indulgences such as vacations and an extravagant gift or two, but that was it. Jaime, the richer between them, fortunately didn’t grow up spoiled but he had to strike out on his own to learn and appreciate the value of money. Though they could give the children whatever they wanted, they were strict about this. Thus they made sure they were in an environment where popularity didn’t depend on how expensive your toy was, or what kind of car your parents drove you to school in. They children went to a private school, a kind of investment that would see slow returns, where creativity, imagination and resourcefulness among the students were highly encouraged. Jaime and Brienne were also sponsors to five underprivileged students in the school. 

Thanks to good traffic conditions and Brienne’s efficient driving, they were at the cottage in two and a half hours. She shielded her eyes as she looked across the lake for the other houses there while Jaime got their bags. The sky was an uninterrupted stretch of blue, allowing full blast of the sun.

“I think we’re the only ones here,” She told him, turning around to get some of their groceries from the trunk.

“Good,” Jaime smirked as he walked on the curving stone path. “We can fuck as loudly as we want without anyone calling the cops.”

“Hopefully, in between we can also get some reading done and I don’t know,” she said to his back, easily following him despite the weight of the bags, “entertainment that involves clothes.”

Jaime breathed out a chuckle as he unlocked the door. The inside smelled a little musty and white sheets were draped over some of the furniture to protect them from dust. He set the bags down in the living room and relieved her of some of the groceries. 

“Yeah, but there isn’t as much fun with clothes as without,” he told her, capturing her lips in a quick kiss before heading for the kitchen.

Brienne looked back after him, loving how the sun fell in dapples on his golden hair. “Indeed,” she agreed softly.  
It took another trip to get everything from the car. Brienne raised an eyebrow upon spying the familiar bag that held Jaime’s camera during a lull of putting away food in the fridge and the shelves. Catching her knowing glance, he shrugged innocently.  
“I know you’re not yet sold on it entirely, wife, but at least allow me to document this weekend.”

Brienne put a hand on her waist as she leaned on the counter. “I just had an idea.” 

“Tell me?”

“I will take my clothes off for the camera only if you do the same and I can take some photographic evidence of my own. Because, husband, it’s not only you who enjoys looking.”

Jaime grinned and crossed his arms. “Well, I know that. I’m gorgeous.”

“Fuck off,” she said over her shoulder, laughing. “I’m serious.”

She took their bags from the living room and climbed the stairs. Jaime followed her, already ready with the camera. As she heard the familiar clicks and snaps, she turned around.

“What are you doing?”

Jaime aimed the camera at her and turned the lens. “Jerking off. What do you think?”

“I hate candid shots. I always look awful,” she complained, continuing her way up the stairs.

“Only if you don't remember to close your mouth, wife.” Jaime continued to bang away all the way to their bedroom. “Turn around. Gimme a smile, Brienne.”

She flushed and started to unpack. “No way. I probably have bugs in my teeth and you can see the state of my hair. At least let me get cleaned up first.”

Jaime continued taking photos of her. “But Natural Brienne is my favorite.”

Brienne sighed and turned around, flipping him the bird. Jaime laughed but took the photo anyway. Then he put the camera away, gazing at her in pure adoration and desire. Brienne swallowed as he set the instrument on the dresser next to him.  
Before her big eyes and pink face, Jaime pulled off his black, v-neck t-shirt. His abdominal muscles rippled and tensed with the motions of his body. Brienne staggered at the sight of his hard, muscled chest, the sprinkle of gold and silver fur on them, narrowing to a tempting strip towards his navel. The back of her legs hit the bed and Jaime smirked before he unbuckled his belt.

Sweat gathered at her nape as Jaime toed off his sneakers, then his socks. His jeans followed. He stood before her, proud, golden, beautiful. Being almost fifty had made Jaime’s looks and body sharper, the angles harder, the lines and surfaces leaner. She continued to breathe loudly and quickly as he took the camera from the dresser and went to her.

Brienne couldn’t tear her eyes away at the bunched muscles of his thighs and legs as he walked toward her, and when she dared to look at the erection between them, a helpless, throaty moan was pulled from her throat. She quickly cut herself off with a hand over her mouth but it was done. Jaime dropped on his knees before her, taking denim-clad legs and caressing her long thighs. The enlarging pupils of his eyes were slowly overwhelming the green of his gaze.

“You can look at me all you want, Mrs. Lannister,” he told her, sweeping her messy hair away from her face. “Or fuck me. Or both. Whatever you want. I’m yours. Now and for always.”

Then he sat back on his haunches and snapped a photo of her. The sound shook Brienne out of her reverie and she dropped her eyes to her lap, biting her lip.

“Your neck looks really long when it’s like that,” Jaime continued to speak as he clicked away. “And the way your hair is it looks like there are electrical sparks around it.”

That made her giggle. “You mean I look like a crazy person?” She asked, looking up.

Jaime put the camera down and shook his head. “You look like you.”

She blushed and Jaime quickly aimed the camera at her. “Fuck, wife. But I can make an entire catalog of your blushes. No two blushes are the same. It’s really sweet to watch.” 

Brienne looked at him, unaware that with the light of the room, her eyes looked a strange, otherworldly blue. She kept her gaze steady as she heard the camera click then Jaime was focusing the lens again.

“I love looking at you.” He said then put the camera down. He smiled. “But I see you best with my own eyes, wife.”

Brienne put her eyes down again. As she did, they settled on his erection, bigger and thrusting even more against his boxers.   
“I love looking at you too,” she admitted with a whisper. She reached out to caress the elegant line of his jaw. Keeping her eyes on him, she took the camera.

Then brought it to her face, aiming the object at him. 

She peered at Jaime through the camera. Sunlight could be a harsh light of truth but not on Jaime. The circles under his eyes were a little dark his stare was alert and clear. There was a faint line under the lower lid of his left eye but he was still handsome, easily the best-looking man she ever laid eyes on. 

And the best-looking man in Westeros was looking back at her lovingly. She pressed the button and continued to snap away.

“You’re a very handsome man, husband,” she thought to tell him.

He grinned and rose on his knees. Lips quirking in an arrogant, suggestive smirk, he reached for her right foot, unlacing the black sneaker she was wearing. She giggled as he tickled the arch of her naked foot before removing the other shoe. 

“If I may have your pants, wife?” He asked formally, his hands on her thighs, ready to tug down the garment.

Blushing heavily, she unzipped her pants and helped him shimmy it down her wide hips. She picked up the camera again, grinning as she took photos of her husband stripping her off her pants. Jaime laid kisses on her left ankle, paused then looked up. 

“Wife, I would really like it if you just look at me right now.”

She shook her head and snapped a photo. Jaime rolled his eyes and continued with little bites and kisses up her left calf, glancing at her in exasperation every now and then as she continued taking photos. But if she thought she got the last laugh, he proved her wrong shortly by raking his teeth on a very sensitive spot behind her knee. Brienne shrieked, drawing her leg back to her chest sharply, nearly hitting herself with the camera. Jaime continued to punish her with more kisses and nibbles along the sensitive backs of her thighs but laid it thick and intentional behind her left knee. Reduced to peals of laughter and breathless gasps, she groaned, “Alright! Alright! Truce! Jaimee! I said truce!” She handed him the camera and Jaime set it on the night stand.  
She was still gasping when he pushed himself back in her arms, this time his lips taking hers in a succession of lingering, passionate kisses. She swung one leg up to wrap around his hip, drawing him and the hard press of his erection against her cunt. Growls laced their kisses as he found her damp, and he pulled away briefly to grin arrogantly at the growing spot on her flesh-colored underwear. As red spots bloomed from her cheeks, he whispered huskily, “I love that after all these years you still get so wet, wife.”

With a sudden moment of boldness, she whispered back, “What is it you like to say? That I have the wettest cunt in Westeros.”

“Gods, that you do,” he agreed, claiming her mouth back with his. Her fingers pushed at his hair as she grabbed his face, deepening the kiss. 

He divested her of her shirt then tank top. She looked away at the flare of desire in his eyes. Did she really look like so to get such a reaction? She wondered, trying to fight the heat overwhelming her face and neck. Jaime’s mouth on her throat, tongue flicking out to taste the freckles scattered there, drew her attention back to him. 

From the early days of their relationship, Jaime, strangely, had always found something to marvel about her body. Her unfeminine body with breasts so meager their curves were more of a suggestion instead of the real thing, straight waist, wide, flat hips and thick, hard thighs. She was covered in so many freckles that they could be treated as a full-body attire.   
It took them close to a month to go on a first, real date because they couldn’t—or rather, Jaime claimed he couldn’t resist fucking her. He kissed away her wide-eyed dubious stare. For a few hot moments, she forgot that her breasts were too small to merit a bra, focusing instead at how he loved that she didn’t need one. His kisses around her waist made her feel delicate, as she thought women ought to be. He held and kissed her as if she were something precious but in the early days, she thought he did it to be polite, the first among the few men she slept with to do so. She waited for when he would stop calling, when he would really see her and realize just how ugly and unfeminine she was. The morning after they first slept together he vowed he would be asking her to marry him someday but she knew enough not to take him seriously. So she was gobsmacked when he took her out on a date, got the next shock of her life when he asked her out again, and again. And fucked her again and again. When she revealed her doubts, he got really annoyed and reminded her that two weeks after they first fucked, he told her he loved her. More importantly, the day after, she said she loved him. 

“I’ve been honest from the beginning,” he told her, his displeasure at her misgivings clear. “Tell me now, Brienne. No bullshit. Do you care for me? Do you love me?”

He looked ready to gouge holes in the walls. He was angry but hurt too. It was in the dimming of his gaze, the catch in his voice at the last question. Vulnerable was not a word she thought to associate with Jaime then but the man before her was the embodiment of it. She saw his heart. Saw that it was true. All she could say was a shaky, “Yes.” 

Marriage and children, most of all loving and being with Jaime had given her some confidence but the Brienne who was bullied for most of her life was still there, scurrying to hide under shadows, retreating behind the cracks. Thought not a day passed without Jaime complimenting her in some way. Be it a text message like, “Miss your astonishing eyes,” or a very inappropriate phone call in the middle of her meeting (“I’m thinking of you, wife. Could you go to the bathroom and touch yourself, pretend I’m with you?”), he never failed. He sought her out first upon arriving home, greeting her with a kiss. When the children weren’t around, he would cup her breasts and slide his hand down her pants while whispering what he had been thinking of doing to her all day. 

Maybe old habits were impossible to break. Maybe in spite of Jaime’s consistency and best intentions, they were no match against the ghost of the girl she will always be. But a part of her, and it was a part whose voice was getting louder, wanted to cast her out, longed to believe the beauty Jaime saw in her heavily freckled, bulky, overweight body. 

Brienne watched as Jaime moved down her body, keeping his eyes on her as he licked a nipple before sucking noisily, hungrily. His hand cupped her other breast, squeezing possessively before turning his attention there, with a kiss, followed by a hard suckle. Her eyes were soft, tender blue orbs staring at him as he continued his way down, nipping at the still-firm contour of her stomach, tongue dipping in her navel. Her face reddened anew when Jaime’s teeth seized on the loose skin there and sucked. She looked away and he raised his head.

“Wife? Brienne?” He sounded anxious.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Just. . .”

Jaime continued to look at her. “I know that expression, wife. Something’s bothering you.”

Since he woulnd’t stop staring at her, she sighed and huffed, “It’s silly.”

“What?”

“Jaime, I still have quite a lot of weight from when I was pregnant with Alysanne.” She gestured at the loose skin on her stomach. “I have cellulite. Cellulite! And this.” She fingered the slightly raised scar from her caesarean birth with Joanna. “I mean,” she sat up and he sat up too. Hand covering her breasts and the other to hide the bulge on her stomach, she asked, “are these things you really want to photograph?”

Jaime looked confused. “Why not?”

_“Why?”_

Jaime was frowning then his face cleared. He crossed his arms.

“You don’t think those are beautiful?” When Brienne shrugged, he persisted, “Really?”

“Uh, Jaime, you do know that everywhere bodies are airbrushed and made small and everything to make them perfect?”  
“That’s what the world thinks. Not me.” He pointed out. “I won’t deny that it’s perfection that sells. Or at least, the popular perception of what perfection is. Mine isn’t huge breasts or skin so smooth it’s unreal. And it is unreal. This,” he reached out to pry her hand away from her stomach. “This is beautiful.”

“It’s lined and loose and scarred.” She insisted stubbornly.

“And it’s not beautiful because?” Jaime pinched the roll and she flushed. “Wife, your body is like this because of the children. Our children. Children that lived in your body for nine months—children made only possible because you loved me—I assume much—enough to let them grow in you. This,” he emphasized further, grabbing her more firmly, “shows how big and generous your heart is. Tell me again how that is not beautiful?”

But Brienne was stubborn. “If this is beautiful, why aren’t there more magazine showing women with rolls like this wearing bikinis?”

“Again, it’s the popular perception. When I think of beautiful, it’s you.” 

“Oh, come on.”

Jaime shot her an exasperated look. “Eleven years together, six children, and you still don’t believe me?”

“I know you will never lie. But I think you’re over-the-top sometimes. It’s hard to believe.”

“What do you want me to say? `I like your average tits’?” Jaime’s eyes darkened with lust. “Your breasts are small, wife, but trust me. I never thought of them as average. Lie down.”

“What? Jaime, I don’t think fucking me right now is going to convince me.” She blushed, spying that his erection was still there. And looking bigger. Though she protested, a familiar slickness gathered in her cunt and her nipples tightened under her hand. She shifted, the position opening her legs a bit and Jaime’s nostrils flared upon scenting her arousal. 

“I’m not going to fuck you. Not yet. Come on. Indulge me. Lie down.”

Brienne sighed and fell back on the bed. Jaime stretched out beside her, cupping her breasts. He caressed them, lightly pinching her nipples. As Brienne felt herself slipping to a sensual trance, he spoke.

“Your nipples have always been long and prominent,” he said, giving her left nipple a slight pull, making her whimper in delight. “I like that you don’t wear a bra because they strain against your shirt. When you’re breastfeeding and leaking milk, I get jealous of our children. I got dibs, you know.”

Despite their argument, she laughed. 

“You have amazing breasts, Brienne. Never for one second think that what they lack in cup size makes them less so. They’re amazing because they’re part of you. And I love you. Every obstinate, stubborn, freckled inch. I also like that I can put an entire breast in my mouth.” Then he demonstrated exactly as that, mouthing an entire mound easily. She grunted his name as she clung to his shoulders. He released it with a loud, wet pop then rested back on his side next to her, his hand on her stomach.  
“Your skin is softer here. I like it. And so what if this fleshy bit won’t go away?” He asked, pinching it. “It’s beautiful because it’s part of you, Brienne.”

She watched him kiss her there again, pushing her legs open so he was comfortable. He glanced at her as he thumbed the edges of her panties and she raised her hips so he could pull them down. Then his face lowered towards between her legs, nuzzling he thick, dirty-blond pubic hairs if they were the softest thing.

“I love your cunt, wife. It’s a woman’s cunt.” He told her, flattening his palm on it briefly before introducing a finger inside her. Her legs tightened instinctively and he continued to thrust deeper, a second finger joining him. “ _My woman’s cunt._ ” 

“Y-You don’t think. . .” she managed to stutter as his fingers drove in and out lazily although he was lapping her up with urgency. “Um . . .” She squirmed, closing her eyes briefly before opening them. “I mean—Like. . .when I got it waxed. .   
.Remember? The wedding?”

Jaime raised his head, showing her lips made slick from her honey. “I like hair on your cunt, wife. I can understand the aesthetic behind the practice but. . .” He placed a kiss on her thatch. “I love a woman’s cunt. Yours is my favorite.”

“Well, it should be!”

He laughed and lowered his head again. “I’d be a fool to not love the wettest and tightest cunt in Westeros.” His eyes darkened. “Or to want another cunt, wife. I only want yours.”

She blushed as he started fucking her with his tongue and fingers again. “M-Maybe. . .not as tight. . .” Then his tongue touched her in a way that had her mouth falling open. _“Oh! Oh! Jaimeeeee. . . “_ Her body shook as her orgasm began. Jaime upped his kisses and fingerfucking, tossing her right toward the clouds. 

Uncharacteristically, she gasped, _“Fuck!”_

Jaime continued to kiss and fuck her even after her high. She was sensitive, his kisses a sharp burn on her cunt but she couldn’t fathom the words to tell him to stop because it felt so fucking good. When she was able to wail that it was too much, he promptly flipped her on her stomach. Then she felt him pushing the cheeks of her ass far apart, followed by the glide of his tongue on her entrance there. 

They had done this before. Many times. Still, she was as shocked as if the first time.

“Oh, gods. Jaime.” 

“You’re sweet even back here,” he told her.

“R-ridiculous,” she breathed as his tongue slid inside then out. And back again. Her big teeth tore at the pillowcase.

She came a second time with a shout, throwing her voice with abandon in the air. But Jaime was far from done. She was still panting when he flipped her on her back this time and launched a renewed attack on her legs with kisses so soft. Tremors still owned her body from her release. The contrast of these airy kisses to the furious ones he had unleashed on her drove her eyes shut and a broken keen to drift from her lips. 

“I can’t get enough of seeing you come, wife,” Jaime said, sounding a little breathless as he nibbled on her right calf. He licked the bunched muscle there. “You should let me take a photo of you as you look like now.” 

She shook her head, having a vague idea of how she must look. Jaime was in no great shape either although still unfairly good-looking. His face was tight with tension and he was speaking in sharp, rough tones. Sweat made his skin shine. His cock, still enclosed in his boxers, nudged at her knee and she gasped at the spot of moisture she discovered.

“C-Come here,” she said shakily, reaching for him desperately. She was still tender but needed him inside her, hard, rutting, rough. So rough. 

But Jaime shook his head, transferring his kisses to her left leg.

“Your legs are so, so long,” he said admiringly. “And I love your big feet. Love that we have the same shoe size, actually.” His eyes shone at her before dropping a smacking kiss on the side of her thigh. “You have freckles everywhere.”

“Jaime, I want you. Please,” she pleaded, reaching for him again.

He shook his head. “I won’t fuck you until you believe me, wife.” He sucked at her skin.

“What—What the hell?”

“You heard me. Not until you start believing me. I want my wife to know she’s beautiful. Better yet, to accept she’s beautiful.”  
“Jaime Lannister,” she groaned, “please. I need you to fuck me. I mean—look at you!”

He glanced down at his erection and sighed. “I know.”

“Fuck me, please!”

“Nope.” He lipped her hipbone.

“Fine! I believe you!”

“You’re only saying that because you want my cock.”

He wouldn’ be cowed down by the storm of her eyes. “I won’t let you come until you believe me.”

“I just came, you idiot! Twice! Ha!”

“That’s the last of it, wife. Enjoy them.” Jaime mouthed her cunt again. “The gods only know what I just got us into but I mean it. I won’t fuck you, I won’t let you come until you believe me.”

Then he gave her a challenging stare. “Mark my words, Brienne. You know that I’ll do it. So unless you start seeing yourself as you should have a long time ago, I’m going to make us suffer. It kills me when you put yourself down, wife. It hurts. And there are times when I can’t just reach you no matter how hard I try. So I’m not going to give you what you want.” He sighed and went back to kissing her cunt. “Rather what we both want.”

“You can’t be serious!” Brienne wailed both annoyed and aroused with what he was doing between her legs. “It’s my birthday and you won’t fuck me?”

“Much as I’d like to give you the gift of my cock,” Jaime drawled, “I believe it’s more important that you start believing in yourself more, don’t you think?”

“I hate you,” she said faintly as his wicked tongue got to work. Her hips thrust at his face. 

“I know, wife. I’ll believe you if you’re not dripping.” 

Fuck. This was going to be the longest, most frustrating next two days. Brienne wished she could hit her husband but he was unleashing heaven on her cunt. 

Well, almost.


	5. How You Hurt Me

The Lannisters passed the most frustrating night they’ve ever had. Trips for work sometimes kept them apart for days, and for a couple so used on having each other close in every way possible, they were sheer Seven Hells. Once home, the need was so urgent that no series of catastrophes could stop either of them from having the other. 

But having each other so close yet not completely was a new level of hell. 

Jaime hardly said no to his wife, and when it involved fucking, the word never even crossed his mind. But he wanted her to be more confident and comfortable with herself. She was smart, brilliant, hard-working, sharp. Brienne had the biggest, most giving heart, the most breath-taking eyes and the best legs in Westeros, hands down. He understood that she would never be able to shake off her insecurities and doubts about her body but he hoped that one day, she would see what a sexy, irresistible woman she was. Convincing Brienne she was intelligent didn’t take hard work—she was, and this she was sure about. Telling her she was beautiful, sexy, and everything involving her looks were another matter. He hated how his compliments were becoming opportunities to bring herself down. 

He turned his head to find his wife curled up beside him, sleeping sweetly. Her pale, limp hair, fell around her face and her mouth hung half-open. It was still early the sun was only beginning to rise. Sunlight fell in pale, faint stripes on her skin, emphasizing the freckles on her arms and shoulders, her back. 

As if sensing his stare, she frowned in her sleep and turned to lay on her back. Jaime grinned as the blankets slipped, showing her breasts. Her nipples were still hard and swollen, looking like fat, dark red berries. Moving carefully, Jaime took the camera from the nightstand and quietly started taking photos of his sleeping wife. 

It was a struggle keeping his hands away from her. Jaime enjoyed fucking his wife immensely because she will always have a sweet shyness about her complemented with an uninhabited response that fueled his desire even more. His cock stirred under his boxers and he forced himself to move and focus on the task, liking how the light fell on her and seemed to embrace her big, strong body. 

As he adjusted the lens to zoom in on her eyes with the thin, pale eyelashes, they began to flutter. He put the camera back on the table and watched her slowly come awake. Her forehead scrunched before she turned, giving him her wide back and its freckled surface. Jaime looked at them longingly, feeling himself get impossibly harder. He was thinking of taking more photos when Brienne spoke, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“I hate you, husband.”

He chuckled and fell back on her, torturing them by rubbing himself against her thigh. “I love you.”

Brienne sighed and surprised him by taking his hand and putting it under her, right under her breast. He sucked on her shoulder and cupped the gentle mound.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, turning her head slightly. Still holding his hand to her breast, she turned on her side, taking Jaime with her. “Please?”

“I would gladly fuck you,” he said, licking her neck and squeezing her breast. “If you’ll let me take the photos.”

“You were taking photos,” she said.

“Only of your face.” He pinched her nipple and she whined. 

“Stop that,” she moaned. “They’re sensitive.”

“Sorry.” He just cupped her then. Last night, he had sucked her nipples so hard, bringing her close and closer to orgasm but denying it to her. He just lay beside her then.

“You know what I hope you’d do?” He whispered, catching the tip of her big ear and sucking it between his teeth “I wish you’ll embrace just how beautiful your body is, wife.” He buried a groan in her shoulder as he rubbed himself against her some more. “You say you’re overweight. I say it’s become so much easier to hold you. Gods, this,” he couldn’t resist squeezing her breast tightly. “This.” His hand lowered to the heat between her legs. Her bush was thick and springy, her cunt lips plump and soft. “I love how soft you are. Here.”

“I’m fat,” she insisted. 

Okay, so she was a little bigger. But so what? All the more for her to look formidable and intimidating. 

“You’re big and just wonderful. I never liked small things. Except your breasts,” he added. “Come on wife. Put us out of our misery and pose so we can fuck. I should be spending all day between your glorious legs.” He grinned. “Telling you from between your legs how much I love you and how beautiful you are.”

Brienne shook her head, sighing loudly. “Ridiculous.”

Jaime’s eyes darkened. He immediately thrust two fingers inside her. She was wet. Brienne gasped. 

“I can give us what we want or leave you hanging again, wife,” he whispered hoarsely. 

She squeezed him inside her slick entrance. His name was a broken husk from her lips. _“Jaime.”_

“Gimme a kiss,” he ordered softly, using his other hand to turn her head. Their tongues were quick to spar as he continued stroking her in and out. “Wife?”

“Jaime, please.” Brienne’s face was pink with desire. 

“Pose for me?” He asked, prompting her eyes to open. 

As doubt skidded on her face and he felt his resolve die a little upon seeing it, the phone rang. Her eyes widened as he started to move away. “No, no! Jaime, please, don’t stop—“ She pressed his hand and rolled her hips, fucking herself on his fingers. Jaime growled but this was ridiculous He managed to fight his hand free from the hot grip of her as the phone continued to ring. As Brienne muttered an expletive under her breath, he answered the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Your children wish to speak to you.” Said Tywin Lannister, the sound of his voice effectively killing Jaime’s boner in a snap. He sighed and glanced at Brienne over his shoulder, who was curled in a tight ball.

“It’s the children,” he told her. Turning back to the phone. “Are they okay?”

“Yes. They just miss you.” Then he heard Tywin speaking to someone. “Your father’s on the phone.”

Brienne was glaring at him but her face cleared up a bit upon hearing the children were on the other line. She snatched it from his hands and said, “Hello?”

Jaime left her in bed to go to the bathroom. He was quick to wash his face and relieve himself. When he got out, Brienne was still in bed and looking at him furtively. Blushing at being caught, she quickly returned her attention to the phone.

“Listen, Jason, Mommy love you very much but I really must go to the bathroom. Your father is here. He misses you too. Okay.” She held out the phone to Jaime. 

Seeing her cool expression, he took the phone from her and, covering the mouthpiece, said, “You know what you need to do, Brienne.”

She glared at him and wrenched the blankets with her as she stormed to the bathroom. Sighing, Jaime spoke to the children. 

 

The rest of the morning was spent away from each other. While Jaime kept busy in the kitchen, Brienne went for a run in the mountains The tension in the house was so thick, their frustration even more so. It was impossible to be still.

It was still chilly and some areas of the mountains were still cloaked in faint mist. Brienne was wearing an old hoodie and an older t-shirt of Jaime’s, worn leggings and her sneakers. She took on the trails and inclines with the least effort but in no time at all, her shirt was soaked with sweat. She pulled off the hoodie to tie the sleeves around her waist and continued.

Her body was tight and hard with unresolved tension. Jaime had kept her in a state of intense arousal the entire night but never saw it through. It was cruel of him, really, to deny her orgasm. He loved her body, he said. Thought she was beautiful. But these were things he was expected to say because he was her husband and the father of her children. Alright, he also loved her but she wished he would stop with the ridiculous, untrue compliments. He saw her in a way she knew she would never be and it hurt. 

She sniffed, feeling something prick behind her eyes but there was a wind blowing and it carried pollens that were making her feel like this. Frowning, she swiped the back of her hand across her eyes and made her way higher and higher up the mountains. She calculated she had been hiking and climbing for just only a little over an hour before reaching the top. 

At the peak of a mountain, she scanned the world below her. The lake shone like a clear, dark blue mirror under the sun. The air was cooler where she was, and she looked at the mountain range far across. She stood there for a while, just staring into nothingness, only feeling the air at her back, the warmth in her body from the sweat that cloaked her. Then with a sigh, she walked her way back down.

Despite the hard work she had just put her body through, it still performed well, with hardly any strain and only the most minimal effort. Her body was reliable, strong, healthy. That was what mattered. She didn’t need to be complimented about her breasts, her freckles. She didn’t need to be told she was beautiful by anyone. At that thought, there was the familiar pricking behind her eyes again. Damn it.

She was rubbing her eyes dry and so didn’t see a rock or probably the thick root of a tree sticking out of the ground. Too late did she realize her foot had gotten caught and by the time she knew what was happening, her body was flying in the air. She was standing right at the top of an incline. With a shout, she quickly protected her head as her body landed hard on the ground. She grunted upon impact and kept her head protected and her body curled as she rolled down the hill. The position served her well because a large boulder was right in her path. Her elbows took the brunt of the crash and she stopped right there, panting and close to hysteria.

 _Oh gods._  
Taking a deep breath, her heart pounding in her ears, Brienne slowly straightened her body. Okay. She could move them. Holding her breath, she rolled her neck from side to side. It was moving. She could feel the ground under her, cool and a thick carpet of leaves yet still so fucking hard. There was something wet trailing down her right leg. Gingerly raising herself on her elbows, she saw that her pants were torn in the area and a long gash decorated her flesh.

As she stared in shock at the cut, things came to her all at once. _Jaime. The children._ The fact that she did not have her phone with her. Horrified that she could have broken her neck or worse, Brienne burst into tears. She sobbed there on the ground, burying her face in the shelf made of her elbows on her knees. Oh gods. She could have died. She could have died and Jaime wouldn’t know for a while. It would probably be hours before her dead body was found and she knew her husband would hate himself, never forgive himself. She couldn’t do that to Jaime. 

She was still sobbing when she got up, her body shaking. She brushed the leaves and twigs off her hair and from her clothes then continued to walk. Her right leg felt tender but she could put weight on it so it wasn’t broken. The last time she had been in the forest, she broke her ankle and Jaime had to carry her piggy-back-style back to camp. 

By the time she staggered back to their cabin, Jaime was pacing back in forth in front of it. His face was pale with worry and his eyes widened upon seeing the state she was in. Brienne grimaced but managed a smile. She was alright. The cut did not feel as bad as it looked. 

Before she could speak, Jaime nearly startled her soul out of her with his roar. 

_“Where the fuck have you been?”_

Floored by his temper, she stammered, “R-running. What do you think—“

 _“Running?”_ Jaime was practically hysterical. “For three hours? In the mountains? Why didn’t you fucking tell me? I’ve been calling you and you fucking left your fucking phone!”

Oh. Well, didn’t she think the same after she fell? She looked at her feet warily then back at him. Of course Jaime wasn’t done. 

“—no phone and you come back looking like _that?_ ” 

Jaime had never been this furious before. He looked ready to kill her several times. She didn’t know she had been gone that long, and she was sorry.

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to worry you like that.”

Jaime wouldn’t easily be placated. “Worry me? That’s all you have to say?”

“Hey! I didn’t mean to worry you. At all. Believe that.” Brienne shot back. “I’m sorry I’m really sorry. Now will you quit biting my head off?”

Her response startled him but Jaime was still glaring at her. She flushed and started speaking some more.

“I’ve been thinking—“

“Really?” His tone was sarcastic.

“Look, it’s not easy—“

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Better to practice selective truth-telling. Brienne blushed and stammered again, “Um, uh, I slipped—“

“You slipped? _Fuck you for lying to me!_ You looked like you’ve been mauled by a bear!”

She flinched at his harsh words but fought back. “Fine! I slipped and fell down a mountain. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going. I’m sorry I didn’t take my phone. I’m sorry for being a fucking idiot! How sorry do you need me to be to stop making me feel horrible?”

Expecting to be yelled at again, Jaime surprised her by grabbing her face and kissing her hard on the mouth. She sobbed and kissed him back, throwing her arms around him. But he suddenly shoved her away. He smirked at the hurt in her eyes.

“Where else are you hurt?”

“Just what you see. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” 

“Good.”

He bent down, pushed at her. Brienne shrieked as she fell forward, her body rolling in half over his shoulder. To her amazement, Jaime straightened up, carrying her like a sack of flour over his shoulder.

“Jaime,” she growled. “Put me down! I’m too heavy!”

“’Jaime, put me down! I’m too heavy! I’m too big! I’m too fat! I’m an idiot! I’m sorry!’” He mimicked her, slapping her soundly on the butt as he made his way inside. “When will you realize that what you’re never too much but simply fucking perfect, my wife?”

“Don’t fucking blame me if you break your back!” Brienne snapped as Jaime entered the house. She barely got her face out of the way when he raised his leg at the back to kick the door shut. She retaliated by smacking him hard on the ass.

The force had him staggering and tightening his hold around the backs of her legs. _“Ow!_ What was that for?”

“You almost kicked me!”

“Well,” Jaime huffed and hefted her over his shoulder higher, “you almost killed me!”

“Jaime, put me down!” she repeated. “I said I’m sorry! I’m dirty! I’m getting you dirty!”

“I just don’t think you’ve earned forgiveness yet,” Jaime grunted as he climbed up the stairs. Then he was kicking a door open this time and she recognized the floor and carpet in their bedroom. “Stubborn, stupid, wench.”

Brienne gasped and pushed her palms on his back as she struggled to straighten up. “What did you just call me?”

As a way of replying, Jaime suddenly tossed her in the air. Brienne shrieked as her body flew for the second time today before bouncing on the mattress. An ominous creak followed. Glaring at the laughing face of her husband, she exploded, _“You fucking idiot!_ I fell from a mountain and you throw me like this?” 

Jaime was laughing so hard, the merciless, cruel man. And Seven Hells if he was going to kiss her or touch her! She thought murderously as he threw himself over her thrashing body. She pulled her arm back and punched him in the face. He cried out but it only deterred him for a moment before his mouth crashed on hers.

Despite her outrage, she kissed him back with equal fervor. As Jaime pressed her on the bed, she grabbed him with her arms and legs, locking his hard, very aroused body to hers. When she felt Jaime’s hand caress her leg, she suddenly stiffened and shoved him away. This time, he looked at her with both surprise and hurt.

“What?”

“I’m dirty.” She started to squirm away from under him. “Get off me. Gods, Jaime, I smell funky—“

“You’re dirty and I think you landed on something really suspicious that I’d rather not mention,” he answered, stilling her struggling body with just a look. She gasped. “I still think you’re beautiful. You are beautiful. And I want to fuck you.”

To emphasize his point, he rubbed his erection against her thigh. He smiled tenderly as her face flared red.

Then they were kissing again. Gods, it was sinful how good his mouth and body felt on her. But she couldn’t really get into it without clearing something first. Again, she shoved him away.

Jaime sighed loudly. “What have I done this time?”

“Stop telling me I’m beautiful,” she whispered, lowering her eyes then finding the courage to look up at him 

He frowned. “Why the fuck?”

“Jaime, I don’t need you to lie to me! I know you love me. You married me. Every day you make me happy and feel loved. I don’t. . .I don’t need to be told. . .that. Please. It’s not true. We both know it.”

She looked at him, holding her breath. Jaime shook his head at her and to her surprise, rolled off her. He scooted to the foot of the bed, his back facing her. Confused, she sat up.

“W-Why are you over there?”

“I don’t like being accused of something I didn’t do.” Jaime’s voice was sharp. 

“I-I wasn’t. Jaime, I wasn’t,” but she understood what he meant. She pushed herself higher up and went to him, careful that her bloodied and dirty leg didn’t touch any more of the bed. “I only meant that. . .you don’t have to tell me. You love me. I’m so happy with you. I don’t. . .I don’t need that.”

“You don’t,” he agreed. “But I want to.”

Brienne moved some more until she was sitting beside him. Jaime glanced at her as she laced her fingers through his. He looked disappointed. 

“Why do you like putting yourself down like that? Look, I know how it was for you for a long time. I remember every story about yourself you’ve told me. Every word of it, Brienne.”

“You don’t have to tell me I’m something I’m not to make that forget.”

“I don’t want you to forget. But I want you to know something you don't. Why do you have this impression that. . .I’m lying? Or that I do tell you you’re beautiful because it’s some fucking duty?” He looked away and rubbed the space between his elegant eyebrows. “I’d say falling knocked your brain bad but this is why, isn’t? Why you refuse to pose? Why you won’t let yourself be seen the way you should see yourself?”

“Who are you to tell me to do that?”

“Just your husband.” He snapped. “The man who loves you and worships the ground you walk on. The man who doesn’t deserve someone as great as you. But I love you.”

“That’s enough.”

“Who are you to tell me that?”

“Your wife.”

Jaime rolled his eyes. “Stupid woman.”

“Fuck you.”

“You don’t get to tell me how I should compliment you or how I should see you, Brienne. Don’t you impose limits on me.”

“Any more that you don’t get to dictate how I should see myself.”

“Of course I do." He scoffed. "You’ve got this skewed, very wrong view about yourself. Why is it you believe me when I say your book is awesome but you think I’m lying when I say you have beautiful eyes, or just that you’re beautiful?”

Brienne looked away and removed her hands from him.

“I wanted to give you the gift of confidence and loving yourself more, Brienne. That’s my purpose in taking photos of you. I wanted you to love and revel in your body. Seven above, Brienne, your body brought six children into this world. Six children. Not all women can do that. You did. I can’t stop thinking of your wonderful, beautiful, strong, sexy body. So understand when I say that it hurts me when you accuse me of lying. And every time you cut yourself down I’m reminded of how helpless I am. It seems no matter how many time I try to tell you that you’re this singular, rare and beautiful person, you’re never going to believe me. You think I tell you these things just because I’m your husband. That it’s a duty.” 

To her dismay, Jaime got up and headed for the door. 

“What—Where are you going?”

Jaime looked at her sadly. “I had such high hopes for this weekend, wife, but you just showed me it’s pointless. I don’t see why we should stay any longer.”

“Wait. Jaime—“

But he was already out of the room.


	6. Look At Me

Jaime opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. As he checked for bandages and antiseptic, he heard Brienne calling out for him. “In here,” he said, his voice faint and heavy. There was a pause and he imagined her standing hesitantly by the door before opening it.

Brienne wasn’t someone you’d describe as well-groomed although she kept her things in military order. The strongest hair products barely controlled the constant mess of her hair, short as it was already. Protein and conditioning treatments did little to her rough, brittle hair. Her clothes were always laundered and ironed but at some point during the day, a leg of her pants would come uncuff, or she would lose a button from a blouse, end up spilling something on herself. She hated it but Jaime thought it was cute. Then her blushes. Next to her unbelievably blue eyes, he could never get enough of the vivid pinks and deep reds her face acquired when embarrassed, shy, unsure, angry, happy, relaxed, frustrated, ecstatic—simply put, there was hardly a moment when Brienne was not blushing.

Looking at her now with her face flushed the color of overripe watermelons, her clothes soiled and dried blood on her leg, Jaime was all the more drawn to her. His wife would always be innocent and that’s what called to him to have her again and again. He loved the absence of affectations, how she was quite comfortable with herself despite her never-ending hang-ups regarding her looks. She was dirty and there was a strange funk on her but how Jaime desired her. And it wasn’t because he hadn’t had her. Early in their relationship, he joked that that just thinking of her got him hard, what more when they were together. 

But he was pissed that she thought he lied when proclaiming her beautiful. That he did out out of duty. That really hurt.   
He fought to not go beyond a glance in acknowledging her presence before taking out some of the contents of the cabinet. 

“We’ll have to get the cut clean. Maybe you should shower first before we take care of that. Then we’re off to the doctor to have you examined.”

“I don’t want to leave.” Brienne said stubbornly, scowling. “Jaime, please, I can explain—“

He put the things on the shelf of the sink. “Let’s not. . .not now, okay?”

Brienne stared at him and repeated firmly, “I don’t want to leave.”

He closed the toilet seat and sat on it, looking up at her.

“I’m sorry for saying you were lying,” she said after a moment. She sat on the edge of the tub. Their knees brushed. “I—It was an awful thing to say especially when I know you. . .mean it. I’m just. . .” she let out a frustrated sigh and turned her lovely blue eyes on him “Jaime, I never hoped nor expected to be described that way.”

He kept his tone brusque. “Are you feeling dizzy?”

“I didn’t hit my head, okay?”

When he continued to look at her doubtfully, she huffed impatiently. “Alright. Fuck it. I’ll get clean, we’ll go to the hospital then we’ll talk.” She glanced at the package of cotton and antiseptic, wincing. “I can take care of myself.”

She was stubborn, more stubborn than he would ever be. He shrugged and gave her this one. 

“I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

He saw her looked surprised. Well what now? He thought, irritated. He couldn’t get it right with her, it seemed. 

“Fine.” Brienne flushed and looked at her feet. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

 

Jaime sighed, resting his head against the wall as he sat outside of the doctor’s office where Brienne was being examined. The silence of the drive to the hospital had been stressful. He was so used to teasing his wife, of the laughter that filled the vehicle, holding hands between red lights. He was hurt but it was heartbreaking seeing Brienne affected by what happened. If he were the resentful sort, he would think good, she should be. Though Jaime was still annoyed at her accusation, he didn’t like being the cause of her pain, even if she contributed to it.

The door to the office opened and then Brienne was standing there, looking cross and flushed. Jaime scrambled to his feet and she gave him a look.

“I told you I’m fine.”

“Not that I doubt your authority over your body,” he said, his innocent use of the words making her flush more. “But it doesn’t help to have a second opinion. Or third.”

Brienne shrugged and fingered the strap of her purse. She was wearing an old, button-down dress—a familiar blue denim but faded now, and the edges of the sleeves were a little frayed. The cut on her leg which looked bad when she first arrived from her run was now bandaged. He hoped she’d gotten the doctor to at least look at it. 

He stared back at her. No one looked good under the fluorescent light. Brienne’s pale skin looked overtaken by freckles but her eyes looked very blue. So maybe she was plain, he thought, resisting the need to brush her limp hair from her cheek. But she was not forgettable. Not with those eyes and her height. Her heart would always be reflected in her blues and that’s what made her beautiful to him. 

How can you doubt your beauty, wife?

“I want to go home.” Brienne looked at him in the eye. “Home meaning the cabin, not home King’s Landing. I want to be with just you, husband.”

His spirits were down but just those eyes and the pleading note in her voice came pretty close to undoing him right there. So he didn’t answer, his throat tight and heart hurting, and instead strode ahead of her. Brienne’s long strides had her walking abreast of him quickly. 

“Please don’t be mad, Jaime,” she begged. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to say you were lying. Only that you don’t have to do it.” Jaime punched the elevator button going down and she continued talking. There they were again. Those words. _You don’t have to do it._

“I don’t like it when things are done out of duty. You love me. That’s more than enough to me. Can’t you see that?”

Jaime shot her a frustrated, sidelong glance. “Why can’t you see that I don’t call you beautiful out of duty? Do you know how that makes me feel?” 

“I only mean—“

“I know what you mean,” he snapped. “My love is enough. Why are you always imposing limits? I hate that you’re always this ‘enough’ bullshit. Can’t you see you deserve much more?”

“I already have more than I deserve.” Brienne pointed out. “You.”

He shook his head at her. Any other time, he wouldn’t feel the ground under his feet at all with her declaration. In fact, he felt a little light-headed and the pain in his chest eased a little. But he couldn’t forgive her for thinking it was his duty to compliment her. Not yet. 

The elevator dinged and they stepped aside to let the people in it out go out first. Then, in spite of the tension between them, Jaime ushered Brienne ahead of him with a gentle press of his hand on her back. As the doors closed behind them, Brienne spoke again.

“I don’t need you to tell me I’m beautiful. Or to prove it to me. Don’t you realize how your love has done so much for me? You gave me this life, Jaime. I never thought I’d have something like this.”

“And it’s enough,” he added dryly, pushing the button to the first floor.

“More than enough.”

“Wife, I would rather have you love me without limits than be grateful.” As Brienne started to protest, he continued, “That’s how it sounds like to me. It’s. . .hurtful.”

As the elevator began to descend, Brienne chewed on her lip. It was her mannerism when reflecting. He had to stop himself from brushing his fingertips on her plump lips. 

“You don’t even have to pose for a photo anymore,” he said, pushing his hands in his pockets. “But I hope you’ll realize just how wonderful I think you are and you’ll stop setting a limit on how much I love you. You know what I wish for always? I wish I’ve known you longer. If I had, I would have loved you longer, Brienne. And maybe knocked away all the insecurities that you still have. But I can’t. And I’ve learned to accept you’ll always have them. But it doesn’t mean you have to hold on to them. That I can’t help you with unless you try. You’re not trying. You always say no.”

“Look at me!” Brienne exclaimed. 

Jaime looked at her, this time not disguising his want. “Looking and liking and lusting over every inch.”

She blushed and practically dove out of the elevator when the doors opened. Jaime rolled his eyes to the ceiling and went after her.

“Will you be serious?” She hissed, glancing at him as she stormed down the hallway.

He almost stomped his foot. “Why do you think I’m not? I hate it when you do that!”

Brienne’s eyes widened and Jaime paused. He had raised his voice. 

The nurses behind the desk, the old man in a wheelchair waiting to be wheeled in a room, everyone in the lobby, turned to look at them. 

Flushing and immediately contrite, he said more softly, though his expression was hard, “Brienne, I need you to trust me and believe me. Stop thinking I’m joking or making fun. Stop thinking I do anything for you out of duty. You’re quite slow, aren’t you, in that department? I thought I made it clear before we got married that I did not marry you out of duty or obligation. I love you, you stupid woman. I fucking love you for the rest of my days. I think you’re the best part of my day. Every day. You’re amazing. You’re beautiful. When will you believe that?”

He watched the emotions skid across her face. Doubt, yet again. Surprise. Again. Fear. Worry. He took a step closer and put his hand on her cheek. 

Hope, slow and the faintest flicker, spread across her face, softening her coarse features. His sweet, innocent, clueless wife, he thought, caressing her cheek. His gut clenched at the pink that bloomed from her cheeks. 

“You don’t have to do the photos, Brienne,” he repeated, his tone now gentle. “But I hope you’ll learn to love yourself. I don’t doubt that you love me but save a little for you.” As he spoke, his other arm wrapped around her waist.

Brienne rested her forehead against his. “I’m a fucking idiot, aren’t I?”

He embraced her, chuckling. “You said it, wife.”

“I—I don’t know how to do it, Jaime.” She confessed helplessly. “To want more. To—To accept things. . .to see myself clearly. . .” Her breath warmed his lips and he held her closer. “To love what I see. Gods.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “Remember how we fought on your fortieth birthday?”

“I’d rather not.” He would always regret that.

“No, Jaime. Listen. I demanded that you see me and appreciate who I am. To accept all that is wrong about me and still love me. I demanded that of you and you’ve given it. Without question. Yet I can’t. . can’t seem to make that demand to myself. How weird is that?”

“It’s not,” he assured her. “We’re often blind about ourselves. But at times willfully.” He caught her chin between thumb and forefinger pointedly. “So we should learn to trust. And listen.” As she let out another frustrated sigh, he had to smile. “Wife, it takes time. And you are an extremely stubborn mule.”

 

Brienne watched as Jaime went straight to terrace upon arriving home, saying something about taking their lunch there and opening a bottle of wine. She closed the door behind her and watched him look across at the lake, the slight wind ruffling his golden hair. There was some silver already in the mix, and when he grew a beard those little hairs that told age were clearly there. She preferred her husband looking a little rough like that, if only because he was way too handsome when clean-shaven.   
She stepped out of her shoes then put her bag on the table, not removing her eyes on her husband. _How could someone as beautiful as he think her beautiful?_ This was a question that thundered in her mind whenever he complimented her. The sweetest lie, with the best intentions, she thought. 

By thinking her husband only did this along those lines, she had hurt him. Jaime had a huge amount of pride and for him to admit she hurt him took a lot of letting go on his part. Brienne hated having hurt him; she only wanted him to know that his love was all she wanted for the rest of her life. Trust on her husband to spoil her and try to make her head spin like those maidens in the songs of old.

How wrong she was.

He had always been adamant about finding her beautiful. Not just her body. Her. From the first time they came together, he made it clear. He was right—no matter how much he tried to get past the walls that still remained, built to protect herself, he couldn’t do anything if she didn’t help. It would be quite a process realizing she was beautiful physically to. Maybe she would only get halfway there. Maybe she’d take the entire path. Who knew? But she didn’t want to disappoint Jaime. It was important to him, which made it important to her too.

What had he told her? _To believe in herself. To love herself more._

And to love herself more was to love him back. It wasn’t so strange to think that, she realized. Perhaps it was the truth.  
Brienne took a deep breath and reached for the first button of her dress. Then the next. The another. Another. When her dress hung open, she shrugged it off and took another deep breath. She had some confidence in her body before, when she was younger and reveled in the lingering curves her first pregnancy gifted her. Her body was no longer what it used to be but for Jaime it was beautiful. More beautiful. She touched the faint caesarean scar, traced the garter of the sensible full panties she was wearing. The flesh of her thighs were no longer as supple.

She raised her eyes and saw Jaime was still in the terrace, standing with his back to her. 

She threw her shoulders back and went to him.

The wooden floorboards creaked under her feet, causing Jaime to turn with a smile on his face. It froze as he stared at her with bug-eyed disbelief, taking a visible gulp at the sight of her small breasts swaying with every step toward him. He took a sharp inhale as he looked at her cunt, licking his lips at the curls escaping from the narrow band of her panties. As his eyes descended to her legs, he gasped again.

_“Fuck.”_

Brienne bit her lip and continued toward him, feeling her nipples pebbling and her cunt beginning to swell in anticipation.   
“Holy seven fucking hells, wife,” Jaime groaned just before she reached him and pulled him to her for a kiss. 

Only hours had passed since kissing Jaime but her hunger had grown to a seemingly bottomless pit. She was hungry and needed him so much. Her big hands cupped his face, angling it so she could kiss him deeply. He let out a sound, another groan, probably a growl, as he held her fast to his chest, the buttons of his shirt and the buckle of his belt digging in her flesh. 

“Fuck me,” she whispered raggedly, tearing her lips away briefly to look in the dazed, dark emeralds of his eyes. He nodded and pulled her back for another kiss.

Kissing Jaime made her feel hot and cold, sure and trembling, desperate and greedy. They were holding each other so closely she couldn’t really slip her hand between them to unbutton his shirt. The length of his belt tickling the inside of her thighs caused her cunt to spill some honey. She grasped this bit of leather, not breaking their kiss as her fingers traveled up its length to the cool buckle. A slight adjustment then she was pulling it, unzipping his pants. This time she broke away to stare at his cock being freed from his pants, thick and long. Always thick and long. As Jaime muttered, “Fuck,” and “My wife,” she pulled his pants down. Her face burned as her body followed, stopping only until she was kneeling before him, her nose brushing the leaking tip of his cock.

Her breath stirred his golden curls, her eyes going dark at the evidence of his massive arousal. . .and growing. Blushing some more, she raised her eyes toward him as she tongued the veined length of his cock.

Jaime’s head fell back, his Adam’s Apple bobbing frantically before he straightened to look at her. _“Brienne,”_ he hissed, fingers brushing back her hair to bare her eyes and mouth taking his cock. “Fuck. Gods. Brienne. _Brienne.”_

She tightened her lips around him to get more of his salty taste. Her wet, sucking kisses filled the quiet in the air, followed by Jaime’s sinful groans. She was so lost in the taste of her husband, of wanting, of loving him so much, that she couldn’t feel the floorboards scraping her knees. But Jaime, as always, still remembered these things. 

“Wife,” he gave her hair a slight tug and she moaned as she was pulled from his cock. “If you want me to fuck you, we’ll do that later.”

Then he was pulling her up, kicking off his shoes and pants. But when he made a move towards the house, she shook her head. Surprising them both, she instead shoved him down one of the lounge chairs. The look of pure delight lighting up Jaime’s face was her prize, giving her the boost of confidence to drag her stick panties down and climb on top of him.

 _“Oh, fuck,”_ Jaime groaned as he felt her weight on her. The lounge chair squeaked under their combined weight. “Yes. Gods, wife. Fuck, yes. Remember that weekend in Casterly?” He asked, just before her lips descended on his for another bone-melting kiss. She did. The weekend they made Casterly Rock their own but fucking all over. The pinnacle of that experience was the after-dinner fuck on a lounge chair. 

She bit her lip in a futile effort to control another wave of blush. From the increased warmth of her body and Jaime looking more pleased, she must be fire-engine red.

 _“Yes!”_ Jaime grunted as she put her hands on his chest. He looked at her hungrily, lingering on her breasts with the nipples tight and pointing toward him. She flushed again but let him look. She would always see herself as she was, with small breasts and a boyish waist. He didn’t want her to cast delusions on herself, she realized now. He wanted her to love herself. To accept everything about her. As he did. 

“I’m,” she cleared her throat, some sliver of uncertainty still in her, “I’m doing okay, Jaime?”

“More than okay,” he breathed, reaching up to cup her breasts. He squeezed them eagerly before scattering kisses in the valley between them then toward her throat. “You’re always fucking perfect. Oh, wife, what you do to me.”

The words were out before she realized what she said. “The things I do for love.”

Jaime’s face positively lit up and she kissed him. In between frantic breathing and more declarations of love, she took his cock and carefully guided it inside her. She threw her head back, groaning roughly, while Jaime seized her by the waist and exhaled her name.

They preferred a rough, almost brutal touch to their lovemaking. This time, they took things slowly. She watched Jaime press kisses on her fingertips, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as she caught the tip of his ear between her teeth and sucked. The languid, almost too-relaxed pace of her hips would usually be maddening but Jaime didn’t signal or do anything that told her to change it. Instead he kissed her some more, proclaiming she had the sweetest lips, the cutest breasts. His hands spanned her broad waist as if it was delicate and he gripped the cheeks of her ass as if they were full and womanly. Weighing more than her husband, she expected him to complain at some point that she was crushing of him. Nothing like that came. If anything, Jaime reveled in the feel of her clasping his cock, her strong, big body pressing him hard on the lounge chair. His back would be striped with bruises but he made no complaints. He just watched her, looking both joyous and smug, proud and lustful. When she peaked, it was with a high-pitched scream, abandoned and triumphant, the cry of a conqueror. 

Food and the rest of the world was forgotten as they spent the rest of the day immersed and inside each other. Once Brienne had taken the first step, there was just no end to the wanting, the taking. He took her hard against the wall of the living room, drawing throaty moans from her as he pounded inside her with the savageness she had always loved. The nap on the couch came to an end when she woke him up with her mouth around his cock, sucking him hungrily while her eyes were soft with love.   
When night fell, they were exhausted but hungry. Jaime made an omelet with mushrooms and sharp cheddar cheese. Crisp chardonnay accompanied the meal. Afterward, they went to bed to have more of each other, revived but food and wine. But they were only able to do it a couple of times before sleep claimed Brienne. Before she fell right into the vortex of dreams, she heard Jaime calling her beautiful again, after so long. Instead of scrunching her face, she turned to him, opened her eyes to look in his calm gaze. 

“I love you, Jaime.”

He kissed her on the forehead and put his arms and legs around her. “Don’t stop, wife.”

 

Purged of all the tension from the forced abstinence, Jaime woke up easily the next day. He was smiling, for his dreams were of a sapphire-eyed wench discarding her white cloak and begging him to fuck her. Turning, he expected to nuzzle his nose at Brienne's nape but she wasn't there. He frowned. Brienne’s side was still warm, so she wasn’t too far away. But still. He liked waking up with his wife. And his cock was hard. That was his favorite thing to do in the morning, fucking Brienne. 

He lay back on the pillows, breathing deeply. Fuck, the sheets and the room smelled of sweat and fucking. He turned to stretch, groaning as the knots in his shoulders popped. He sat up and that was when he saw the camera on the nightstand, as well as a note.

_I’m at the terrace. Waiting for you to take photos._  
_I love you._

A wide grin split across his face and he took the camera. It was actually a debate whether he should put some pants on or not. In the end, he thought, fuck it. He’ll be fucking Brienne at some point, hopefully soon. What was the point? He raced downstairs to the terrace, clutching the camera to his chest.

He got the shock of his life when he reached the terrace and found his wife on a lounge chair. Sipping her coffee and naked. Naked. His wife, shy, stubborn and the sweetest of everything sweet, was out in the sun in only her nameday suit. Jaime had to tighten his grip on the camera lest it fall from his hands. 

“Brienne?”

She turned to look at him over her shoulder. Seven bloody hells. His wife was naked wearing only her freckles and sunlight and she was still blushing. How could she not be beautiful? And it was beautiful, just beautiful, what she was doing now. Jaime’s smile was proud yet tender as she got to her feet, standing on her endless legs, spine straight and shoulders back. Owning her body. Loving herself. He stared at her breasts longingly before aiming for her vivid blue eyes and losing himself in them. 

“I believe,” he said smugly, “my wife wants me to take dirty pictures of her.”

Brienne blushed as she rolled her eyes. “You said nude, Jaime! That’s not necessarily dirty.”

“My thoughts certainly are,” he admitted, feeling his cock stir and enjoying her gasp upon seeing it. 

“Shut up.”

“Only if I get to tell you how beautiful you are. And you believe me.”

Brienne blushed again, looked at her feet then back at him. He could tell it was a huge effort for her to not dive into the blue blanket she had brought along, now puddled on the chair. His heart swelled with the love he felt for this woman. 

“What is it, wife?”

“Just get it over with!” She grunted, impatient as always.

“ _You_ are beautiful.” He said simply.

He tensed, waiting for her to call him ridiculous or order him to shut up again.

Instead, she looked at him right in the eye and whispered, “Only because of you, Jaime.”

That’s it. No way he couldn’t touch her after saying that. He enjoyed her surprised look as he put the camera away. “Later, Brienne,” he assured her, stalking toward her, his intention clear and making her blush and squawk in disbelief. But she didn’t run away. Instead she stepped back until the backs of her legs hit the lounge chair and sent her falling on top of it. Jaime quickly dived between her legs. With a wicked grin, he lowered his mouth to her cunt and in a way that she would understand, told and showed her just how beautiful she truly was.


	7. Oh, Happy Day

Brienne was slowly climbing up the stages of wakefulness when war erupted in the bedroom. The door slammed open, followed by a shout and the patter of feet across the carpeted floor. Her mind and body, still wanting to sleep a little longer, took a bit to process the little bodies leaping on the bed then a warm weight suddenly throwing itself over her, knocking her deep in the mattress and the pillow.

“Oof,” she grunted, opening her eyes. Small hands wrapped around her shoulders then somebody shouted, right in her ear, “Happy Birthday, Mommy!”

Brienne groaned and laughed as the children tried to kiss her at the same time, each shouting a greeting louder than the previous one. She turned on her back, dislodging Ty off her, who squealed in delight as he crashed on to his twin brother. Meanwhile, Jason and Michael climbed up the bed and she spread her arms to wrap her boys in a tight hug. She smiled happily and nuzzled their soft blond heads.

“I wish it were my birthday, every day!” She exclaimed sincerely although her left ear was ringing. 

“Daddy said to wake you up.” Michael told her, making himself comfortable in her arms.

“Hmm. Did he.”

“Yes. He said he’s making your favorite breakfast,” Drew said.

Briene sat up, flushed and smiling warmly at her sons. “What about your sisters?”

“Aly doesn’t want to leave Daddy,” Jason told her. “Jo is helping Gramps get ready.”

“Well, in that case, we have to hurry up. We don’t want to keep them waiting,” Brienne said, giving them a last squeeze before swinging her legs to the side of the bed. As she stretched, Jason and Michael ran out of the bedroom, just laughing when she called out to be careful. She shook her head, thinking that their disobedience was very much their father’s. 

“I’ll check on them, Mommy,” Drew volunteered and was off before she could say anything more. She laughed and called out, “Thanks. I love you!”

Brienne looked at Ty, who remained behind. “You want to go after your brothers, sweetheart?”

Ty shook his head and blushed. Brienne got down on one knee, realizing that he must have something to say to her that he wanted to be only between them. He was a shy one, her son. Brushing his blond hair from his face, she asked gently, “What is it, Ty?”

“I have a gift.” He said, smiling shyly at her. His dimples made him more adorable. 

He really was a sweet boy. “Really? How wonderful. What is it?”

He blushed again then reached in the pocket of his pajamas. Brienne held out her hand and he placed a crude, papier mache in the shape of a star. It was painted blue all over. 

“Gran’pa said that in the old times the kings of Tarth were called the Evenstar,” Ty explained as she examined it. Brienne bit her lip, touched by the gift. “Or if it’s a queen.”

She pressed the star to her chest. “He told you stories, eh? That’s nice. He told me stories too. That’s why I love stars.” She looked at it again then back to her son. “How beautiful, Ty. Wow, I can see you worked really hard on it.” She smiled at him happily. “Thank you. Will you give Mama a kiss? I love kisses.”

Ty nodded and went to her. His arms wrapped around her broad shoulders and she lifted him with her, drawing a startled laugh from him. She embraced him tight as he kissed her cheeks. She rested her forehead against his. “I love you, Ty.”

“I love you, Mommy.”

Brienne kissed him then lowered him to the floor. She held the star to her heart as he ran out of the bedroom. A little misty-eyed, she let out a sniffle then carefully placed it on her nightstand.

She went to the bathroom then, suddenly blushing, thought to lock it. Her back faced the mirror as she stripped, collecting her clothes to put them on a neat pile on the stone of the sink. There was a full-length mirror on the door of the closet holding towels and other bath products. She stood in front of it and looked at her reflection.

Honestly, she didn’t look any different from a month ago, even six months ago. Not really. But it wasn’t a habit to look at herself like so, so what would she know? But mirrors never lie, and as beautiful as the golden sunlight streaming in, it also enhanced the truth of her face and body even more.

Her hair was pale blond and in the light, almost looked white so she couldn’t tell if she had to start buying hair dye soon. She had smooth, though heavily freckled skin, but there was no denying the faint lines webbed at the corners of her eyes. The soft shadows under her clear gaze were there to stay too, as a result of sleepless nights with her babies and writing articles and books that guaranteed career advancement. She loved her broad shoulders. They were strong, she thought, meant to be leaned on. These made her proud.

Her hands were hesitant in cupping the soft mounds of her breasts. Wow, she realized, turning to her side and still looking at herself. They were still small but there was a plumpness to them now—a quality they didn’t have when she was eighteen, twenty-five, even thirty. Nope. She wasn’t as flat as she used to be. 

Turning to the front again, her touch was soft and loving on the pink scrape left by Jaime’s morning shadow, there on her throat and going down between her breasts. Her nipples were still swollen too—those three days away had done little to temper their desire for each other. One carnal bout always fed into the next and the next. 

She touched her stomach, still a little rueful that it was not as firm as before but the soft skin and the roll—they were inevitable. The scar of the C-section was paler than the rest of her. This made her really conscious in a bikini but she wouldn’t trade her children nor her age for eternal youth and unscarred, washboard abs. She turned around, smiling a little at the slight jiggling of her ass cheeks, the faint stripes across their surface and lower. So she had stretch marks. They didn’t bother Jaime, why should they bother her? Her cheeks warmed remembering, during their vacation, lying on her stomach while Jaime kissed and nibbled those lines. He really did. Her husband really was one in a million. No man would ever be like him. 

“So,” she said to her reflection. “I’m forty.”

Wrinkles on the face, on her butt and thighs, jiggling flesh, lumpy bits. The slight droop of her breasts. She put her hands on her waist and put on a smile that looked close to proud but still shy, as she would always be.

She washed her face and found an elastic to pull her hair back a little—a visit to the salon should be scheduled asap. She was pulling her t-shirt back on when someone knocked on the door.

“Wife?” It was Jaime. “Are you okay?” 

Before she could answer, the door was being pushed open. Brienne squealed and desperately tried to jump back in her pajamas. But her panic made her clumsy and she lost her balance, landing with a shriek on the mat with her legs up in the air. Her face burned as Jaime glanced down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Remind me again,” he drawled, “is it your birthday or mine? Because you look like a fucking sweet treat, wife.”

“Oh, you!” Brienne exclaimed, scrambling back to her feet. She yanked the pajamas back on and Jaime let out a long, disappointed sigh. Her blue eyes flashed at him and she threw her shoulders back. 

Jaime was still looking longingly between her legs. “You know, we’re not really needed downstairs yet. Tywin and Selwyn have taken it upon themselves to take care of breakfast and our troops are too enamored of their grandfathers at the moment. Why don’t I take care of you on your special day, my wife?”

Brienne giggled as he gently urged her against the stone of the sink. Green eyes twinkled back at her and she lovingly touched his dimples. Jaime turned his head and sucked on her finger, winking at her as she blushed.

“And how will you do that, husband?” She asked breathlessly, watching his cheeks hollow as he sucked harder on her finger.   
“What do you want?” He transferred his lips to her inner wrist.

Brienne looked at him as he pulled at her hands to position them on her sides, resting them on the sink. The position arched her spine a little, baring the curve of her neck for his eager lips. She sighed deeply as his kisses traced the long, firm line of her, closing her eyes in bliss.

“Wife?” Jaime prompted, brushing his lips on her shoulder. She cupped his face and leaned toward him, her cheeks pink and her body getting warmer. His hand slipped under her t-shirt to caress her back.

“Can’t I love you and the children for all time?” She said earnestly, kissing him softly around the face, toward the beautiful line of his jaw. Her hands slid down to his shoulders before her arms wrapped around him. “I would like us to be this happy always.”

He smiled and kissed her back. “Done.”

She laughed and they just stood there, holding each other and smiling. Then Jaime took her hand and kissed it chastely.  
“My lady wife,” he declared, putting it back down to her side. “Much as I would like to stay here with you, we are urgently needed downstairs—you more than me.” He kissed her on the forehead and reluctantly stepped away from her.

“I’ll follow you in a bit,” she said, still leaning against the sink as he went to the door. “Say,” she straightened up, looking curious. “You were gone quite a while yesterday. Remember? After we came back you left. Where’d you go?”

Jaime grinned. “If I tell you now then it won’t be a surprise.”

She rolled her eyes. “Husband, the fact that you just told me means it’s not going to be a surprise anymore.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “You’d be surprised with how you’ll see yourself when you know exactly what it is.”

“Again, husband. We both know you took photos of me.” He smirked as she reddened fiercely. “I still can’t believe I agreed to it.”  
“Wait and see. I hope you’ll love it.” He turned to leave.

“Jaime.” She suddenly realized something. “You didn’t—I mean—“ and she looked at her feet, unable to get the words out. “You didn’t blow up the photos or something, did you?” She was remembering one photo in particular. She was still high from their fucking and her new-found confidence so she had agreed to everything he suggested and also told him to do to her things she had never experienced before. And he had set up the camera on timer to capture them immersed in those new experiences. 

Jaime saw that she was worried and he shook his head. “I didn’t. You have my word, Brienne.”

“Okay.” 

“Say,” he looked like he just remembered before his green eyes lit up. It was a remarkable thing to watch, and beautiful. “Have I told you today I love you?”

She grinned happily and shook her head. “I was just going to remind you.”

“Glad I did it before you had to,” he joked.

“Well, you are getting smart,” she joked back. Jaime chuckled then left. Brienne was still smiling long after he’d left. She turned to the mirror, shrugged then went out. 

The kitchen was close to animal house when she got there, and thick with the aroma of sugar, coffee and spices.. Jaime, Tywin and Selwyn were preparing breakfast and keeping an eye on the children at the same time. Their small staff had the day off, which Brienne was grateful for because she only wanted family with her on her birthday. 

From the doorway, she watched the men working. Jaime had Alysanne strapped to his chest, an arm wrapped around her protectively. He was bending on his knees to pull out a muffin tray from the oven while talking to her. Her little fist suddenly grabbed him by the hair, making him yelp. Brienne covered a laugh as Jaime put the tray a little too hard on the counter, his pleas for Alysanne to release him making the baby giggle.

Even in a robe, Tywin Lannister looked elegant and it was clear his sleepwear cost a small fortune. It was dark crimson with his initials monogrammed in gold thread on the left pocket. Jason and Michael listened to him attentively as he told them how to arrange the raspberries and blackberries around the huge platter of pancakes. Jaime once told her his father had never set foot in a kitchen so finding him in her kitchen was a nice surprise. And he looked pretty much at home, come to think of it. 

Brienne beamed at the sight of Selywn Tarth. He wasn’t around much when she was growing up and by the time he retired, she was already off to college. Father and daughter only got close a few years ago. Selwyn loved his grandchildren, and took every opportunity to see them. He willingly made four-hour flights just to babysit them for a few days and he loved the summers because they stayed in Evenfall Hall for at least a month. Her father could be stubborn and at times hard to get along with but he only needed to be told once to be better. He was staring at the waffle maker curiously, turning his head when Jaime called out for him to check if the waffles were done.

Joanna, who had crawled up the chair at the head of the table, saw her. “Mommy!” She squealed. Brienne quickly went to her, sweeping her daughter up in her arms and kissing her around the face. Joanna squirmed and giggled. Her big sapphire eyes looked right into Brienne’s.

“Happy birthday, Mommy.”

“Thank you, my love.” Brienne kissed her again and continued to carry her as she went to Selwyn and Tywin. They kissed her on the cheek, greeting her. Jaime waited at the end of the line. He was grinning as Brienne approached. Seriously, could he be any sexier? With ruffled hair, his rumpled t-shirt, pajamas with bears giving the finger, an apron and baby strapped to his chest, the vision of him pushed all her buttons, making her a little out of breath. He must have heard the hitch in her breath because he put his lips close to her ear.

“I love you again, my moon and stars.” He whispered. 

Brienne blushed heavily and bit her lip. His smile widened seeing her reaction.

She squeezed Jaime’s hand then turned to Tywin. His smile was warm and fond. Tyrion once joked that Brienne was his father’s favorite Lannister. 

“Happy birthday, dear,” he told her, hugging her gently. Joanna kissed him on the cheek and he tapped her on the nose. “You look well.”

“Thank you, Tywin. And I am.” Brienne told him. “I’m so glad you could join us.” 

She turned to Selwyn, who was whisking eggs in a large bowl. He put it down long enough to open his arms to her and she went to him, still cradling her daughter. He kissed her on the forehead.

“Happy birthday, Brienne.”

“Oh, Dad, I love that you’re here!” Brienne said, adjusting her grip on Joanna. “So, anything I can do to help?” 

“Nonsense,” he said firmly. “It’s your birthday and today, you will not do anything. We’re in charge here, aren’t we, Ty, Jaime?”  
“Yep, we’re here to serve,” Jaime answered, throwing her a roguish grin. 

Brienne wasn’t used to being idle but the men and the children at times had to literally block her from helping out. It was exasperating but mostly sweet so she sat down at the head of the table. Breakfast was served soon after. Only then did she see how busy the men had been. 

Alysanne, at the moment, was in Selwyn’s arms because Jaime had to bring the platter containing the waffle tower towards the table. Brienne laughed when she saw the small, flaming blue candle perched on top. At the bottom were more waffles and pancakes cut into moons and stars. They all sang Happy Birthday to Brienne, Tywin surprisingly out of tune from everyone else.   
Brienne blew the candle and got another kiss from Jaime and the children. Alysanne shouted for her Daddy again so Selwyn reluctantly returned her to Jaime. Everyone went to their seats, talking loudly and excitedly. 

The table was crowded with food. Aside from the waffle tower, there was a giant frittata, crispy bacon (“Turkey,” Jaime promised when she glanced at their fathers) and very moist blueberry muffins. Drinks were freshly-squeezed orange juice (“With sweet bits!” Michael announced, clapping his hands) and strong, brewed coffee. 

Jaime sat next to Brienne, telling Selwyn to take the seat at the other head of the table while Tywin sat down in the middle. This new seating had the children scrambling to be as close as possible to their grandfathers, with only Joanna and Alysanne keeping close to their parents. 

If cooking had been loud, they were louder once they sat down to eat. Over the children’s heads, the adults had conversations. The children spoke with each other too. A lot of conversations went unfinished because a child would demand attention from either parent, not to mention the little girls that Jaime and Brienne were still helping to feed themselves. Chaotic as it was, everyone was happy and thrilled. Selwyn saw Jaime take Brienne’s to his lips, making her blush. As Tywin was answering Jason’s questions about “how many coins” he had in the bank, he saw Brienne brush a lock of Jaime’s hair from his forehead. The fathers were pleased with the happiness their children found in each other.

Brienne was watching too. She smiled at Alysanne hugging Jaime around the neck, and Jaime in return squeezing her tightly to his chest, pure adoration on his face. She turned her attention to Joanna next, playing with her golden blond curls and wishing her children would be children forever. 

Michael and Ty listened with rapt attention as Selwyn told them a story about how he became a soldier. It went without saying that the kids were impressed with their grandfather, enamored of his clear blue eyes, the deep, reassuring baritone of his voice. Brienne’s eyes were soft as they lingered on her father, making another wish that he would stay as he was. For everything to stay as they were, actually. Which included Tywin, of course. He had softened over the years, and for the first time, had something that could be called a relationship with his children. Right now, he was helping Jason spread butter on a pancake, declaring that a cub with a heart as strong as his needn’t be stingy with butter. Then he was smiling at Drew, who was asking him something. Tywin lowered his head to better hear him. 

“Mommy, mommy,” Joanna gently tugging at the neckline of her t-shirt steered Brienne away from her thoughts. Pinking, she turned to her.

“What is it, baby?” She asked. 

Joanna’s big blue eyes shone and she smiled, revealing two, big square teeth. She cupped her hands around her lips, beckoning Brienne to come closer. As she did, Jaime looked at her, his expression smug.

“Daddy says love you,” Joanna whispered. “Moon and stars.”

Brienne smiled and gazed at Jaime. This truly was a wonderful day. 

 

It was a long day of celebration. They played board games until noon, when Tywin placed a huge order of pizza and sundaes to everyone’s delight. Then they burned off the calories in the backyard by playing with the water hose. Jaime filled balloons with water and the result were screams and the most drawn-out water balloon fight. Tywin was pissed about getting his casual but very expensive button-down shirt wet and roared that his son owed him a new one.

There was a game of tag, then football—or whatever it was that passed for football that involved four adults over six feet tall and six children, with two just about zinging past the knee. They split into two teams, with Jaime and Selwyn captaining one and Brienne and Tywin the other. 

Selwyn complained that Jaime liked having Brienne tackling him to the ground _way too much._

Drew cheered for his mommy. Then Ty. Only Alysanne shrieked for Daddy.

Dinner meant firing up the grill. Of this, Tywin declared himself in charge. Everyone oohed and aahed over the perfectly-grilled burgers, hotdogs and vegetables. Brienne whipped up a potato salad that the children devoured. Dessert was apple pie, bought by Selwyn when he left a while ago to scoop up treats from Frey Pies.

Due to the activities and excitement of the day, the children were more than ready for bed when it was time. The grandfathers would be leaving soon, so Brienne had the children say their goodbyes. Her eyes were a little misty when she finally hugged Selwyn.

“I’ll miss you, Dad,” she whispered.

“See me soon,” he told her. He kissed her on the forehead. The truth was he could leave anytime as Tywin was loaning him the Lannister jet. Selwyn appreciated that but wouldn’t take further advantage. Tywin shook hands with Jaime and he hugged Brienne.

“You have my firm support to throttle my son if he doesn’t make you happy,” he told her.

Brienne laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jaime and Brienne herded the children back to the house, with firm instructions that they had to get clean and brush their teeth before reading them a story. For once, all children obeyed. 

Once they were in bed, the couple returned to the backyard to clean up. Jaime cleaned the grill and did some sweeping while Brienne put the used paper plates and cups in a garbage bag. They were tired but every now and then would exchange smiles.  
Brienne was emptying the picnic table of rubbish when she happened to look up at the night sky. The breath she let out was strong that Jaime asked, “What?”

“Look that,” she said, her voice reverent as she pointed at the sky. 

Jaime went to her and looked up. She glanced at him then back at the sky, shaking her head in wonder. 

It seemed all the stars in the universe had converged to light up the sky. They glimmered like diamonds flung with abandon. Never had Brienne seen the sky so crowded with stars. And the moon. Full and very round, and so close it seemed just the size of a dinner plate. The beauty of the night made her heart feel full.

“It really is your birthday, wife,” Jaime said, putting an arm around her waist.

She smiled and turned to him. Though the night was warm, she shivered in delight as Jaime kissed and licked her behind the ear before nipping the tender flesh there. As she was sinking into the familiar, feverish heat enveloping her body, Jaime suddenly pulled away.

“Hey,” she protested.

He looked regretful. “Just a moment, wife. I nearly forgot!” Then he ran back to the house. Brienne sat on the picnic bench and continued looking up at the sky. 

The soft footfalls of Jaime’s across the lawn took her attention from the celestial spectacle. He stood before her, holding a leather-bound book that looked to be about 8 x 10 in size. At Jaime’s eager smirk, Brienne suddenly realized what it was.  
“Oh, gods,” she blurted out, swallowing. “Is that. . .you made them into a book?”

“I rushed it,” he explained, sitting beside her. At her worried glance, he added, “I did it in the agency yesterday. Your husband didn’t end up as creative director without learning how to d layout, scan,” he patted the spine, “book-bind, among others. As I promised, wife,” he put an arm around here, “the photos here are for our eyes only. You have my word. So, are you ready?”

Brienne took a deep breath. “Boy, my heart is racing.”

“I promise, you’re beautiful in them,” he told her. “You won’t be able to look away. I certainly am having a hard time. With you.”   
He smiled at her blush. “So, wife?”

Brienne nodded quickly and rubbed her clammy palms together. “Let’s get on with it.”

He handed her the book and she nodded again. Then with another deep breath, she opened it.

_Oh, gods._

The first page was photo of her, taken from their last day. Her back was facing the camera and she was wearing Jaime’s shirt. Because she was standing against the sun, her body was clearly silhouetted despite the cover. She glanced at Jaime and flipped another page.

The photos were black-and-white printed on glossy paper. There were close-ups of her eyes, her face, an entire page that was a catalogue of her lips pursed, open, smiling, laughing, being bitten by her teeth, her tongue flicking out, dotted with water. The farther she went through the book, the sexier the photos. And she wasn’t really posing in them. Jaime had picked candid shots out of the hundreds he must have taken. 

She paused at a photo of her in the kitchen. Dressed only in Jaime’s boxers, she was standing in front of the fridge while she texted with one hand and had butter, cheese and a carton of eggs tucked under one arm. Her nipples looked ready and very puffy even in black-and-white. She remembered that Jaime was following her, still banging away with his camera. Her swollen nipples indicated she just had sex.

Actually, in all photos, either she was about to fuck or just came from fucking. She looked at a photo of her stretching in the porch, hands easily holding the beams of the ceiling. The light sweater she was wearing had ridden up. Her nipples were tight under the fabric. It was black and white so she couldn’t really tell if there were smears on her thighs. She was wearing only the sweater and boots. 

If she didn’t know that Jaime was behind the photos, she wouldn’t have recognized herself. She looked happy and relaxed, sure. And her body. Her breasts were small but maybe it was the light but there was sensual curve to them she hadn’t seen before. Her waist was still thick and Jaime hadn’t doctored the photos to erase her Caesarean scar. It was curved but it led to hips that most certainly were womanly. Brienne turned a page and saw a spread of her. She was propped on her elbow on the side, legs bent. She was smiling but still shy. But gods. Her body. 

She looked at Jaime. “Wow.”

“Phenomenal, right?” He said, kissing her shoulder. “Fuck, Brienne. Look at you. You’re so beautiful.”

She smiled and continued turning pages. “I suppose I am.”

“Nut,” Jaime teased, kissing her on the cheek. “Of course you are.”

One of the last photos were of the two of them together. Jaime had set the camera on timer and placed it strategically to capture them both. He was lying back against the pillows, the profile of his face toward the camera, as was Brienne's. She was draped over him. They were both naked and looking in each others' eyes. It was an intimate and very sexy photo.

She closed the book and held it to her chest. Was she really that woman? Yes. Maybe she had been that woman always and Jaime wanted her to know. Love made you blind at times, she realized, but it also showed things clearly. No wonder Jaime got frustrated with her. He wanted her to see for herself how wonderful she was. 

“Thank you so much. I love my present, Jaime.”

“You’re welcome.”

She kissed him and reached for his hand. She put it on her heart. “My heart is yours, husband.”

“I am yours and you are mine, wife.”

“My moon and stars.”

“Always.”

“Always.”

Under the twinkling stars and the soft, gentle light of the moon, they kissed each other. What a gorgeous day this really was, Brienne thought, resting her head on Jaime’s shoulder afterward. He held her, kissing her hand or forehead once in a while.   
“Uh, say, wife,” he said, clearing his throat, “you know, as your photographer—your _very_ devoted photographer, I don’t know, maybe I could use a bit more appreciation.”

“Oh?” Brienne raised her head. “What do you have in mind?”

He looked thoughtful. “Oh, I don’t know. Something along the lines of the model—you—doing a little favor for her photographer.”

“What kind of favor?” It wasn’t like Jaime to ask that but she didn’t mind. Still, this was new.

“I mean,” he continued, “you know.” He cleared his throat again “Like, you know, they do in those movies?”

Brienne was confused. “What movies? You mean the rom-coms you like?”

“Something a bit edgier but not all the way. You know, the photographer and the model have an affair?”

It was so cute how flushed Jaime was, even more that he couldn’t say it outright. Brienne laughed, although her cheeks were red.  
“Jaime Lannister,” she demanded, “are you saying you want us to, um, well, role-play? You the sleazy photographer and me the innocent model?”

“Not so sleazy,” he protested. “And you’re not that innocent. Although,” and there it was, the glint in his eyes that told her he had been playing all along. “I do like the fantasy of you being this young girl visiting the city for the first time and a photographer with big dreams sees you from across the street. He takes your photos. You two fall in love.”

“Like,” she said, playing along now although her cheeks were more pink. “Like, with every frame, you fall in love more and more?”

“Something like that. I’m a man of experience and you’re a virgin.”

“That’s going to take some acting I don’t think I’m capable of, Jaime,” she said, standing up. She took the book with her and shook her head at him. “A virgin, really?”

Realizing she wasn’t into the game, he was quickly contrite. “Oh. Sorry. Well, you don’t have to be a virgin. Come on. It’s just a fantasy.”

“How’s this. Whoever gets the camera first becomes the photographer and the slowpoke is the virgin?”

“Huh?”

Brienne grinned hugely at the confusion in his face before she announced, "Race you!" 

Then she tore across the lawn, legs pumping hard and fast towards to the house. Jaime, suddenly realizing she had been playing him, ran after her but he wasn’t exactly racing after her. He was smiling, enjoying the view of her firm backside in her shorts. 

“If I’m the virgin do you promise to teach me to be naughty?” 

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's done!
> 
> Thank you for the comments and the kudos. Sorry it took me a while to finish this short story but I've been so busy lately. Until the next installment!

**Author's Note:**

> The Lannisters are back! I missed this world and I hope you did too.
> 
> That said, I'd like to ask you to bear with me as I fix the ages here. When I first wrote the series, Jaime and Brienne were older. In subsequent installments they got younger and their kids' ages got confusing too. I'm fixing this but it's going to take time. 
> 
> I hope you like this latest in the series. It takes place before their tenth anniversary honeymoon in Dorne, Ten Years Later. I'll fix the order too because, as I've mentioned before, this series will simply be never written in order. I apologize for causing some confusion again. 
> 
> Looking forward to your comments! Please heed the tags. They're there for a reason so you have a choice whether to skip the story or read it at your own risk. Just don't shame me or anything. Thank you.


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